Wednesday, January 25, 2012

The Mortal Part

Just back from round one at the doc.

Dr. Ohlson is very dedicated to getting me to the staring line at Hopkinton on April 16 and I feel good about that; if it can be done he will do it. The x-rays showed some expected degeneration due to my age but nothing substantial from what he told me. My problem is in the joint line and he explained how the meniscus can be asymptomatic; you can be doing damage and not aware of it. Only the outer part of the meniscus receives enough blood to make speedier repairs, inner problems have no blood supply and represent a greater healing challenge.

Next step is to get an MRI to get a clear picture of the injury site. If little or no damage then a possible cortisone shot and PT would help get me back on track. This would be the best outcome and the one I am hoping for. If I have a tear, well, that could be bad. Very bad. of this morning still don't know what exactly is going on. I had a 'moment' when I got back to the office that I have felt building since I found myself injured. I think I am mainly a positive person, but having come so far to maybe not making it to the starting line was much on my mind. I intend to hobble the distance with a crutch if I can't run IF it wouldn't damage the knee further. It's going to take more than a lost foot - or sore knee - to stop me.

However, I am not going to ruin my knee if continuing to run now would make things worse than otherwise rest and possible surgery could fix. There is next year. I did qualify to run the Boston Marathon, my name is on the entrant's list and that cannot be taken away from me. Ever.

I have gone from wheelchair to running a marathon, and as a human being, I am as unstoppable as mortal man can be. I will only quit when life calls the game, until then, just get me in the game coach.

We won't regret it. Ever.

The Immortal Part

When I meet the morning beam,
Or lay me down at night to dream,
I hear my bones within me say,
"Another night, another day."

"When shall this slough of sense be cast,
This dust of thoughts be laid at last,
The man of flesh and soul be slain
And the man of bone remain?"

"This tongue that talks, these lungs that shout,
These thews that hustle us about,
This brain that fills the skull with schemes,
And its humming hive of dreams,—"

"These to-day are proud in power
And lord it in their little hour:
The immortal bones obey control
Of dying flesh and dying soul."

"'Tis long till eve and morn are gone:
Slow the endless night comes on,
And late to fulness grows the birth
That shall last as long as earth."

"Wanderers eastward, wanderers west,
Know you why you cannot rest?
'Tis that every mother's son
Travails with a skeleton."

"Lie down in the bed of dust;
Bear the fruit that bear you must;
Bring the eternal seed to light,
And morn is all the same as night."

"Rest you so from trouble sore,
Fear the heat o' the sun no more,
Nor the snowing winter wild,
Now you labour not with child."

"Empty vessel, garment cast,
We that wore you long shall last.
—Another night, another day."
So my bones within me say.

Therefore they shall do my will
To-day while I am master still,
And flesh and soul, now both are strong,
Shall hale the sullen slaves along,

Before this fire of sense decay,
This smoke of thought blow clean away,
And leave with ancient night alone
The stedfast and enduring bone.

- A. E. Housman

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