A plea to my knee

Dear Right Knee

I’m aware that until recently, I’ve seriously taken you for granted. While other parts of my body have fallen apart, you’ve remained niggle and injury free. Since you decided to make yourself known to me back in May, I’ve been thinking about you, a lot. I’ve realised that over the years you’ve had to endure my countless not so “knee friendly” sporting fads:

  • Ballet (luckily I got too tall)
  • Tap dancing
  • Gymnastics (particularly the vault and floor)
  • Acrobatics
  • Horse-riding (and falling off)
  • Cricket (keeping wicket)
  • Hockey
  • Tennis

My running and athletics obsession started when I was a lanky 11 year old. At school I loved competing in athletics in the summer and cross country in the winter. Double games lessons and running club sessions were the highlights of my week. Although my long arms meant that I was okay at the javelin and discus, I loved middle distance running and the long jump. Throughout the countless hours I spent running around the track and sprinting down the runway perfecting my long jump take-off, you my dear right knee, never once complained. Although you were knobbly, and during my lanky phase, looked pretty fragile, you were completely niggle free.


Relaxing together during a tennis match…

When, at the age of 14, I realised that we were never going to very good at the long jump, I focussed our obsession attention to running. During the summer we would train and compete on the track, in the winter our focus turned to cross country. We were lucky enough to experience some pretty awesome cross country events courses. Leaping across ditches and streams? No problems. Running through deep energy sapping mud? Easy!

15 years ago I gave you a break from athletics and cross country. We spent the majority of 2000 residing inside pubs and clubs. Although we went for the occasional run, the outbreak of foot and mouth meant that our year in Leeds was pretty free from running.

Fast forward a couple of years and the running obsession has returned. I become obsessed with training, with entering races, with collecting race medals. This time, however, our training is different. Whereas previously we would only train on the track or across the fields near my home, I switch our attention to training on the treadmill and pavements. You, my dear right knee, never once complained.

Unfortunately, back in May you suddenly made your voice heard. We were running down Rosemary Hill Road when you finally decided that enough was enough. Although, on that occasion, you allowed me to complete my Sunday morning run, since that fateful day our relationship hasn’t been the same.

It has now been almost seven weeks since we last went for a run. After completing a parkrun in August you could hardly support my weight. At almost 12 stone I don’t really blame you. During our recent trip to La Crosse you prevented me from playing baseball. Thanks! However, this month you, my dear right knee, have started to feel normal again.

This week we have been on three long walks, throughout these walks you have remained niggle free.

Tomorrow I am hoping that we can return to the athletics track where, all those years ago, our running relationship started.

Although walking is great, running with you is far more enjoyable.

Lots of love



3 thoughts on “A plea to my knee

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