I guess this means I'm a runner

I was able to get in to see my knee doctor last week ($1 million tip: If you find yourself talking to a mean receptionist who won't let you talk to the doc to find out if your situation even warrants an appointment -- especially when she keeps telling you they can't work you in until September -- ask for the nurses' line. That line is a godsend!). After my bouts of pain at the end of our training run that Saturday, I had had a bit of swelling and plenty of worrying about what it meant for the future of my marathon training.

The doctor took a look at things and told me that, given my history of injury, there will just be times my knee hurts. There will just be times my knee swells. And in those cases of pain, I'm supposed to stop running. I told the doctor I could do that.

I was able to ask him some questions I'd had for a while now. Like whether or not the increased cracking of my left knee on stairs is something to worry about. (No.) Or whether I might be wearing my braces wrong. (No.) And is he sure I'm not insane for running a marathon with my history of knee problems? (No. Just kidding.) The doctor told me he has lots of patients who are runners, and they're all going to run no matter what. (OK, then.) He told me to come back after my marathon and tell him how it went.

He said I'd done well by taking it easy and icing my knee. I had waited until Wednesday morning to test out a 3-mile run. I started slow and easy. I even told K not to worry about slowing his own pace to stay with me. He reluctantly ran ahead. And by our halfway point, I had totally caught up with him.

Friday, we went for a quick 2-mile run, just to loosen ourselves up for Saturday's long run. It went well.

Saturday, we ran 12 miles. We were in PA, which is definitely hillier than VA. We'd been going along for a few miles before the tinges of pain started ... but we hadn't gone as far as I'd liked. I ran through them, just to see what would happen. They only lasted for a few steps. Sometimes even just two steps. But they would come and go, and I would wince while they were there, and give quick sighs of relief when they were (temporarily) gone.

The bouts increased along with our distance. Just before we reached 12 miles, there was a pain that made me cry out, but not loudly. It wasn't the first time that I'd done that (and it was primarily out of worry), but we were close to the trail that led to our car. The next step on my left knee resulted in a similar sound.

"Stop," K said to me.

I tried to argue with him. "No, I'm fine. We're almost done --"

"Fucking stop!" he handed me the keys, and, defeated, I hobbled back to the car.

Late Saturday night and several times throughout the day yesterday, I iced my knee. I took Motrin once yesterday and today, to help with the swelling and ease the (still minor) discomfort.

All these years, I had thought my right knee was the problem (see the surgery scars?)!

As you can see, my left knee is still pretty big. And I'm hobbling still -- particularly on stairs (which I deal with at home and at work). But I clutch the wall with one hand and the rail in the other, and I deal with it.

So far it's all like last week, which makes me think it'll gradually fade like last week. Which means I'll be in great shape (all right, OK shape) for my half-marathon this weekend. One of K's best friends is a doctor, and he suggested I take Motrin before the run. Done. I'll just take it easy until then, own the run, and take it easy after.

So I guess I lied to my doctor, but it was an accident. I mean, if my knee is going to swell and hurt from time to time regardless, why not just keep running? 

At least my doctor was right about something: Those patients of his who are runners are going to run no matter what.

(Sorry, Doc.)