Quittin' Time

My running has become increasingly difficult.  My knee is hurting more and I'm not able to make it around my route without getting tired and stopping to walk.  I went to the doctor about my knee but I guess I wasn't satisfied with his answer (it's swollen, it's arthritis, wear a brace, get a cortisone shot), so I worry that I shouldn't be trying to run on it.  I mean to use my knees for several more years so I don't want to do anything now to ruin that plan.  I haven't had a good run for two weeks or more and I dread going out because I fear I'm going to poop out before my first mile.  I had decided that I would run the 5K I had promised my niece and then begin a walking regimen.  I thought about that every time I went out to run.

I reluctantly set out this morning and began trotting down the street.  My knee began hurting immediately.  I tried to ignore it but I began to worry that I was making it worse.  I thought about the promised 5K and became more discouraged.  I thought I would just walk the 5K to save my knee.  I started to think about telling my niece that I couldn't run a 5K with her after all.  I jogged along awkwardly for about a mile, until I got to the corner where I turn.  Then I gave up. "Fuck it," I said to myself.  I started walking.  I felt like crying.  I had been doing so well in January that I thought my new running shoes were magic.  Then it began to get harder.  Now I was a complete failure.

I began to think about all the ventures I had embarked upon in the last few years.  I had taken violin lessons for ten years and while I could play some simple tunes, I was not good enough to play without looking at sheet music and I was certainly not good enough to play in front of anyone.  Then there was my goal to learn Spanish.  I had taken all the Spanish courses offered at our community college and had even started a Spanish conversation group but my Spanish was dismal.  Then I decided to be a writer.  I wrote three novels but never tried to edit a single one; in fact I never even reread them.  There was volleyball, painting, dance classes all ending in mediocrity.  Everything I could think of that I had tried to do as an adult was a bust.  I continued walking slowly down the street along my route thinking about these failed attempts.  Now I could add running to the list.  Maybe I would never find that one thing that I was really good at.  

I thought about how I always got to a certain point and then never got any further.  What if it was because I made excuses so that I didn't have to do the extra work?  I never expected to be world class but I did expect to be better than I had ended up being.  I quit violin because I wasn't getting any better, but what if I had increased my practice time and forced myself to learn the skills that I thought were too hard?  I had downloaded hours of Spanish language practice podcasts but hadn't bothered to listen to any of them.  What if I had spent time each day practicing Spanish by reviewing notes from my classes, listening to podcasts and watching Spanish language television, or reading Spanish language books?  

Now I was thinking about my running.  Was I using my knee as an excuse to quit because it was getting too hard?  I stopped right there on the sidewalk and thought about it.  What if I made myself run even though I was tired and my knee hurt?  Was this my moment to face the hard work it might take to be able to run a 5K?  I turned and walked back to the corner where I had started walking.  Then I turned and slowly began to jog along the remainder of my route.