So I did actually go to the doctor this afternoon. I say this, because I have this habit of canceling my doctor’s appointments at the last minute. And I kinda wish I had done that today.
My GP didn’t do any x-rays, but he checked my right knee and ankle, poked and prodded and has referred me to an orthopedic surgeon. He wants a scope to be done, which involves surgery, which is the last thing I wanted to hear. Even though deep down I knew that the pain wasn’t just from a sprain, a tiny part of was trying to trick my brain into believing that that’s all it was.
Nope. There’s definitely damaged or torn cartilage, with possible ligament damage. And as I’ve had issues with my right knee dating back 12-13 years ago, my extra training and pushing myself has only exacerbated my old injury. I could kick myself.
At the 16km mark yesterday, my body was screaming at me to stop, that it had had enough, but I pushed through the pain, completing the full 25km. By doing so I will most likely not be taking part in the Comrades Marathon this year, and my GP told me to write off the PMB42 happening in 4 weeks time. He actually told me first to forget about Comrades, then I told him about PMB. The look on his face said it all. Comrades is at least 4 months away. Big difference between 4 months and 4 weeks.
I’m heartbroken right now, bordering on devastation. That might seem totally excessive to you, but running is my thing, my escape. With everything that’s happened in the last week with regards to my races and joint pain etc, it makes me wonder if my body IS in fact not suited for running. I know that I’m just in a low spot right now, and that there will be other races and more opportunities to partake in ‘The Ultimate Human Race’ but 2014 is supposed to be my year.
Guess I’ll just be the one on the sidelines, cheering the runners on.
As I have done. Every year for the past 7 years. Telling myself that that’ll be me next year.
Maybe next year it will be.