Three weeks ago, Tom and I did the triathlon relay at the Outlaw half.
The week before, my left knee went again, the one that became f*ck*d in 2016 and stopped me running forever.
It swelled up. It 'went', whatever 'went' means. It was bad this time.
I decided I was doing relay half anyway, so doing the swim and doing the bike and it didn't make it better (no surprises).
It's taken till now that I think that I might not need a knee replacement quite yet, and I might not be taking my six weeks off in the winter to rehab from major orthopaedic surgery.
I might have a little bit of time left where I can still ride my bike and walk (relatively normally), where most people can't realise the problems and distress and discomfort my knee is in.
I need to spin it out for another ten years before the surgery happens to give it the best chance of lasting for my life plan. It might not last that long, but I'm going to spin it out for a while.
And so, I guess in the meantime, I'll be glad that it's not yet and then every day is precious, and every time I ride my bike is precious, and every time I walk down the river with my wife and the dog is precious, even more precious than it was before.
Every cloud, eh, every cloud.
Blog Post Number - 3832
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