A Sticky Situation
You know when you see people walking with the assistance of a stick? I've just joined them!
I hope it's only a temporary situation but my right knee, which has endured a series of meniscus tears during my adulthood, buckled on Tuesday. It has been showing signs of degeneration and instability for a number of years but hasn't given way for a while now. That changed 5 days ago, since when I have been pretty well immobile.
Now I'm not asking for sympathy because in this instance the problem is sadly self inflicted.
The one thing I haven't learnt to do yet in retirement is to accept that I need to be kinder to the various joints in my body, especially my knees. Instead the last few weeks have seen me permanently on my feet decorating or at the gym, throwing myself into exercise classes determined to strengthen my core and key muscle groups to protect myself from injury as I grow older. Some success that has been when I now have one leg that is barely weight-bearing!
I confess Tuesday was a little extreme. I had driven for 4 hours in total on Monday, making a return journey to see a relative. My knee had become progressively stiffer and painful during the trip and when I awoke the next morning had hardly improved. A sensible person might have thought it would have been a prudent solution to stay at home and rest it. Not me.
Convinced that some movement could help free it, I participated in a weights class, squatting and lifting. The weights were relatively light (I'm not completely stupid unless doing squats counts) and the stretching certainly cleared the shoulder ache from all the brush strokes I've been making whilst painting on the landing. Any niggle in the knee was suppressed by the endomorphins as I stayed on to do a bounce class on the mini trampolines. For somebody who is generally very careful not to leap or twist, realising the likely consequences of a combination of a wobbly knee and a hard floor, a rebounder offers a great opportunity to run and jump without, or so I thought, any harsh consequences.
Like any cardio class it was tiring and I was grateful to move onto Pilates to stretch out and recuperate. This time, however, it was with a new trainer and rather than the mat-based work I am accustomed to, much of the session was on our feet.
Nonetheless I left the gym feeling exhausted but fitter than when I went in. The exhilaration lasted only as long as it took me to go home and climb the stairs. The steps must have been the last straw because on the way back down my knee suddenly failed.
I thought a couple of days of rest and elevation with a knee brace might solve the problem and it certainly felt comfortable enough to try a short walk in the village on Friday. That was another error, because I awoke in complete agony again yesterday and thus the acquisition of the walking stick.
Is there any lesson from this story other than proof that too much exercise isn't necessarily good for you? Perhaps it's that we don't always get wiser as we get older or that we might believe ourselves capable of doing far more physically than we actually can. For me it's a wake up call to recognise when my body is telling me that I've overworked it and to respond sensibly rather than pushing it over and beyond . After all, it's the only one I've got and I really don't want to be using a stick permanently just yet.
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