A little history…

12 years ago, I was walking across the street (in a crosswalk) when I was struck from the left side by a vehicle. I was spun around and landed facing the opposite direction, my legs twisted below me. I didn’t hear the crunch until a well-meaning passer-by lifted me up to move me out of the street to await an ambulance. Ten days and one blood transfusion later, I had a metal rod embedded in my leg, holding my femur and knee together. Three months later, I was allowed to place light pressure on that leg. Nine months following that, the metal rod was removed, leaving a glorious nine inch scar up my leg.

2 years ago, I started running marathons.

I didn’t run before my injury, so I don’t know if I really suffer from it. Meredith has mentioned I do have a bit of a limp in my gait, but obviously it doesn’t hold me back too much. However, it’s my favourite excuse when things just aren’t falling into place. Like today. I had planned 6 miles on the treadmill, a speed session to make up for last week’s missed workout. But even after icing it Sunday night (it was sore then), my danged knee only let me go through a mile warm-up and one and a half of my 800m repeats before it started to hurt.

I’m not risking injury at this stage of the game (less than 6 weeks to Chicago). So my workout came to an abrupt halt.

Damn knee.