This is not enough. This will never be enough.

Crutching around town with a cumbersome brace attached to my right hip causes a lot of attention.  I've never had so many random strangers approach me before.  Multiple times a day people ask, "What did you do to yourself?"  Everyone has an opinion and most people are kind, offering me prayers for a swift recovery, or words of encouragement. 

Sleeping in this thing is rough.

At the gym this Saturday an older gentleman pulled me aside.  "Can I ask how this happened?"  I joked it was a hang gliding accident, but finally came out with the truth.

"Genetics mixed with overuse left my labrum crab meat."  He wanted more information on my hip joints and I told him the bones were shaped funny in the socket, combined with a nasty bone spur, and my tendons were rendered worthless. 

"You are a runner?"

"Yeah.  How can you tell?" 

"I don't know, you look like a runner.  I watched you ride the bike.  I could tell it really hurt but you pushed through that pain.  What really amazed me was when you were done, I could see it all over your face how disappointed you were when that ride was over.  You longed for more even though it hurt like hell.  You are one strong woman.  I don't know you, but I do know that you are going to be stronger than ever when this is done.  You'll get back out there and you will enjoy it so much more this time around."

He shook my hand and walked away as my husband helped me to the exercise mats where I finished up my physical therapy exercises. 

A few days earlier, a guy following me into a restaurant called from 20 feet back, "Labral tear?" 

"Yeah, are you a doctor?  How'd ya know?"

"Been there.  I did the surgery on both of my hips when it was still experimental about 20 years ago."  He laughed.

"Did it work?  Are you good now?  Any arthritis?" I didn't want to pry but it isn't often you meet people who have gone through the exact same thing and are decades down the road.

"Sweetheart, I'm old.  Age will always catch up with you, so in that, yes.  I have osteoarthritis in my hips and knees.  But I believe the surgery worked.  It bought me time that I otherwise didn't have."

"So you went back to exercising afterwards?"

"Yeah, and most people told me I was stupid.  Why continue doing the things that put you in that brace in the first place, right?  But they were stupid.  The surgery fixed my imperfections and I rode a bike pain free for a long time.  I could have hunkered down and given up like so many people told me to do.  But I'll tell you one thing, that's a waste of your life.  Take your time healing from this.  Get strong and be really patient.  When your body is ready, get back out there and run like mad."

I've been pondering this dilemma for a long time.  I won't lie, I am afraid to run again.  Is it the running that did this to me or genetic bony bumps?  If I run another marathon, will I re-tear my right labrum, or worse yet, tear the left one?  I do not want to go through this again.  My surgeon said I have a congenital defect in both hips.  Therefore, my chances of tearing my left labrum are 50%.  He fixed the bone abnormalities in my right hip and promised falling down the stairs was the only way it would tear again.  My left hip is a different story.  Those defects will be there until they are surgically fixed.  Could it tear from running?  "Yes."  Could it tear from tripping on a curb?  "Yes."  Could overuse be considered walking my boys to and from school everyday for a half mile?  "Yes."  Can strength training build up the muscles around the joint enough so that it stays healthy?  "Absolutely."

Riding the stationary bike for 20 minutes this weekend, all I could think was, "This is not enough.  This will never be enough."  I need to get back out there.  We are all running on borrowed time.  At some point or another age will catch us.  You can't defy the clock.  The day will come where I can't do what I once could and I don't want to stand on that mountain regretting missed opportunities wrought with fear.  Not exercising, not running, has a whole host of much more dangerous repercussions. 
 

For one, since I haven't been able to exercise like usual, I feel depressed. Those endorphins and mind clearing hours are good for my mental state.  Second, dying of heart disease, a stroke, obesity, alcoholism, etc... caused from lack of exercise would be a grim way to age.  I refuse to make decisions based on a what if.  There is a strong chance that my left hip will degenerate whether I run another marathon or not.  When I was told I couldn't run for at least 6 months I cried.  My doctor said he didn't know the chances of me running again period until he went in there.  The idea of never being able to run endurance events again was a blow to my stomach that I wasn't ready to accept.  Post operation I've been informed that my hip is healthy and will handle the impact.  I have unfinished business. 


~Roadburner

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