I’m Not Obsessed But My Knees Are

This morning will be the first since October 5 that I’ve been on my bike. Year to date there’ve been only two spans of bikelessness in that amount or longer. The first was the rather inauspicious beginning from January 1-11 when I didn’t pedal an inch, and the second was from May 5 – 27 — and for good reason as most of that was spent with Susan on the European vacation of a lifetime.

What’s most interesting is that midway through the four days I spent in Orlando last week, my left knee started hurting. Just straight out of the blue it was all achy and tender, forcing me into a modified limp-gait that was frustrating. Sure, in my middle age I’m used to bending over innocently enough and coming up with a wrenched lower back, or craning my neck and kinking something on the recoil. But with my knee there was no action to justify such a reaction. Just one moment it was fine and the next it was really angry. Had I torqued it somehow? Stepped wrong maybe and hyper-extended something? Or was my knee just balking at all the walking it was doing and all the biking it wasn’t.

It’ll be interesting to see how it handles today’s commute.