Pushing the limits
I’ll be running in two days, I said to the surgeon after the meniscus tear repair. Two weeks later, I asked him why I was not. I have run after more complex surgeries. I have bounced back quicker and to be sidelined after an outpatient 25 minute surgery seems to me…strange, not possible.
Finally, 17 days later I went on the treadmill and ran 3 slow and difficult miles. I stopped conscious of the pain and tried to complete my cardio time in another activity but every other equipment seemed twice as hard as it had ever been. Running felt so much easier…is it because I couldn’t do it? Does everything we are forbidden or removed from seem easier in its absence? I know running has not always been that easy when it has been my choice. It seems that way now when it is not.
The next day I attempted it again. If I did 3 the day before, sensibly I should stay with the same distance. I did, but then I added another mile and then another mile and finally I had completed 9. What’s the difference between 3 and 9, just time and time I have as much as anyone else.
Did I push myself too far?
Wanting to throw my cheap philosophy into it, I’d say that where would we be if we did not push ourselves a bit more? If we didn’t dare more, if we didn’t try harder, if we didn’t endure more, if we didn’t risk as much, if we didn’t love as hard? Where would we be? Where would I be?
I’ll never know because I’ll always push just a bit more.
I am glad.