What I Miss When I Think About Running

And why is recovering from injury so hard

• The routine, especially of starting my days outside.

• The ease with which I feel like I can move my body. There’s no hesitation or second-guessing, usually.

• Feeling grounded and connected to my body.

• The way my mind stills and shuts off.

• The way my breath becomes like a metronome albeit a metronome that has irregular beat and rhythm changes.

• Sweating.

• The (theoretical) simplicity of it all.

• How you can cover so much ground.

• How you can surprise yourself.

• The feeling of improvement even when it’s not linear, even when it feels like I’m going backwards.

• Sense of accomplishment of finishing a run no matter how long or short.

• That particular joy when you step outside on a perfect morning for a run—crisp weather, bluebird skies, just chilly enough for a curtain of goosebumps to fall across your skin.

Sometimes it feels weird to think about an activity so much. It’s not that I actively think about running every day, but it’s something that lives like a hint in the back of my mind, something that surfaces occasionally. Like how a certain song, scent, or image can make you remember something from your past. But I don’t want to think of running as a fond memory. At least not yet. 

It’s not like I’m a competitive runner or a good runner by any stretch of the imagination. I just like running and running has been a steady, consistent presence in my life since high school, even if my relationship to it and how I relate to it has fluctuated a lot over the years. 

If I’m being honest, sometimes I wonder if I’m holding on too tightly to this idea of running and being a runner (however you define that). Maybe it’s because I keep thinking of running as this thing that ultimately brings me back to myself, that grounds me, that makes me feel most like me. And if I don’t have that or can’t do it anymore, where does it leave me? But at the same time, maybe it is time for my relationship with running to evolve. Again. 

It’s been 9 months since I had knee surgery. If you asked me before surgery where I thought I’d be 9 months later, I would have answered: healed. More or less back to normal. Definitely back to running. After all, I’d been through this twice before. I know what to expect. Because those other two times? I was back to running within 5-6 months-ish. Why would it be different this time around?

Why Are You Always Injured?

But nine months later, things look different.

I’m still going to PT. I’ve worked a lot on my strength but my injured leg is still about 20% weaker than my other leg. I run two days a week. One day is a pyramid of 60-90-120 second intervals and the other day is 2 sets of one 2-minute interval and one 5-minute interval. I get to run for 10 minutes this week. My knee still hurts sometimes going up stairs. I still hesitate sometimes going down stairs. I definitely don’t scurry across the street against the light. 

If I had to pinpoint the thing that’s different this time, it’s not just that I’m older or that I had a different surgery than my previous two, although that’s part of it. It’s my confidence. I worry more and hesitate more, whether it’s strength training, running on the treadmill, doing agility drills or plyos. I overthink things. But mostly, I don’t trust my body. I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop—or my knee to buckle. 

The thing is, I know that psychological readiness and fear of re-injury plays a role in post-injury outcomes, including return to sport rate and the risk of getting hurt again. So when I feel these fears and anxiety crop up,  I get worried that it’s a bad sign. Of course, that only makes me overthink things even more.  

God bless the patience of my physical therapist for putting up with me and continuing to push me, to prove to myself that I’m actually capable of doing some of the movements I’m worried about. (Thank you, Cameron.)

I keep saying that I just want to run again, as close to normal as possible. That doesn’t mean it has to be any specific distance or pace. I know that the way that I approach exercise and running has to evolve as my body evolves and gets older. I know that. I understand that. It’s more that I just want to feel at home in my body again, not overthinking things. 

But it has been hard to rebuild my fitness following my surgery but also as a woman in my late 40s. I know that there are very real age-related declines and physiological changes that I do have to account for. Even though I know this rationally, it doesn’t change the fact that it is hard to contend with mentally and emotionally.

I’m actually working on an article about exercise during the menopause transition. I’m looking to speak with women in perimenopause or postmenopause: How has your exercise routine changes? What challenges have you faced? What works for you now?

I’d love to hear your questions and experiences either in the comments or you can email me at bychristineyu@gmail.com.

Links & Things

• What do you see when you see a picture of yourself?

• The Olympics haven’t even started and the Olympic Trials already have me crying, especially the gymnastics trials. And this podcast gets into all the world of Olympic gymnastics.

• Every time I walk by Bryant Park and there’s a movie playing, I can’t help think about the time when Ben Covington stood up Felicity Porter. And I’m glad I’m not the only one who still thinks about Felicity.

• Is everyone a protein girlie now?

Thanks for being here. More soon.

Christine