I cannot decide if I’m getting old, or if there really is something wrong with my right leg. There’s the dull hip pain that resides (though feels better since I stopped playing soccer twice a week and now only am partaking in once a week), the knee that has been stiff since the girl the size of Xena the Warrior Princess took a whack at it with her cleats, and my foot-bone that hasn’t allowed me to kick with much precision ever since it was both stomped on by a beefcake and has been spending 40 hours a week inside a pair of zebra-striped, ten dollar shoes from PayLess.
As Dr. Dad was not available for comment, I called my real doctor and asked her opinion (and also to make sure I wasn’t harvesting sarcoma, my latest hypochondria-related illness to obsess over). The real doctor asked me if I had been taking Ibuprofin. I haven’t, and she suggested I start there. Also, apparently if you have sarcoma, you are definitely not running every day, or playing soccer at all.
Most likely, I need to do more strength training.
But I’m worried. Is this what growing up is about? We feel new pains that don’t go away quickly, our bodies are less focused on self-preservation and more on some other faucet of life. My favorite running buddy, Kristin, is also feeling new pains, interestingly also in her foot, her knee, and her hip. Maybe this is what runners deal with, where we start having to take a cost/benefit analysis approach.
I love running. Pretty much any cost cannot yet outweigh that benefit.