After weeks of laying off the knee I injured in the embarrassing incident now known as The Matrix Paper Retrieval Incident (TMPRI), I finally took the old knee for a test drive. It was a short one. A one and a half mile walk, with Kingston along for support. I even prepared for it by getting myself a pair of those butt/calf toning sneakers (not the Reebok version shown in their soft-core porn ad, but a cheaper, less salacious brand), and donning a knee brace. The verdict – the walk was great – until the day after. My knee, sadly, is not back to its pre-Matrix-move state, and my walks, which had gotten up to five times per week, will probably only be two to three times weekly for the next few months. It’s a fork in the road to fitness I hadn’t expected.
It’s ironic that just before the TMPRI, I’d decided that since so much of what happens to us in life seem out of our control – jobs, lay-offs, the economy – we should take ownership of the things we actually can control. Eating and exercising was at the top of my “Things I can control” list. Or so I thought. The next day I broke the record for the most embarrassing knee injury story ever. Coincidence? I’m not sure.
