I’m benched. From running, it’s miserable. Last summer I thought I had an ankle injury. My Doctor told me it was probably a sprain and to stop running. I ignored him. I was in the middle of training for my first half-marathon. Also, I didn’t think it was a sprain, so I ignored him.
I kept running, but it hurt. A lot. I told myself I would rest after the half-marathon. I did. I rested a full month. Guess what? My ankle still hurt. My Doctor sent me to physical therapy, which actually helped, until I started running again. My ankle was a little better, but my right glute hurt like mad and my right foot went numb two miles in. Miserable.
My Physical Therapist was sure the problem was in my back. It took a while, but eventually my Doctor ordered an MRI. It showed a protrusion, tear, herniation – whatever, they all call it something different – in my lower back.
He told me to stop running.
I didn’t.
Next stop was a spinal surgeon who ordered more x-rays and tests. He told me to stop running.
I didn’t, at first. But I gave in, thinking if the rogue disk could heal I could get back to running after a month off. That was 50 days ago. My newest Doctor (who, as a Purdue graduate I only half trust because he went to IU) is injecting some poison into my back next week to help them see which disk is causing my problem.
He also suggested I stop running. Forever.
I asked my Facebook friends how many Doctors have to give them the same advice before they follow it. The answers ranged from 4 (but only if her mom and all of her friends agree) to 42. My favorite response came from Jo who said, “Who needs doctors when you’ve got the internet?” I agree, all of those people can’t be wrong.
Right?
So to run or not to run, that’s the question. Dr. Hoosier gave me a long lecture about running. He said he gets it, that it’s my one thing – after giving everything else to the family – that’s just for me. That it’s social, not just physical. That there is nothing like running. Nothing feels as good or is as rewarding as a good run. It’s like he read my mind.
It was really annoying.
Dr. Hoosier suggested I give this device a try:
Seriously. I don’t think I can buy that unless I’m on Medicare. And living in Florida (God’s waiting room). And completely disinterested in ever being cool, even among other almost 40-year-olds, ever again.
Yeah…so, I’m probably going to start running again.
How many times do you have to hear professional medical advice before you take it?














