Blue Chip Athletics

Whatever happens, I am at peace with it.

Not a deathbed revelation, nor a response to a life changing event, but a simple philosophy that I am learning to embrace; albeit sometimes grudgingly.

On New Year’s Eve I felt a “pop” in my knee. In my years of training, I know that knees are not supposed to go “pop.” In the past, when my knees have gone “pop” it inevitably has led to bad things – like making payments on orthopedic surgeons’ BMWs. I feared that I would be purchasing another car that I will never drive.

This pop occurred not during a workout, but with the innocent task of lifting up a 17-month-old child. My fear was that the screw holding my repaired ACL had let loose. (Like I said, I am experienced with knee pops.) Fortunately, the stability in my leg indicated a re-torn ACL was not likely. Yet, there was swelling, and pain, and discomfort.

And not all the pain and discomfort was in my leg.

The “pop” occurred six months into my 10 month training program for the RKC II certification. A torn ACL would keep me from participating. A torn meniscus would severely cut into my chances of successfully training for the weekend. It was painfully apparent that a major curveball had been thrown my way.

I’m okay with that.

First of all, I can train around the injury. Most of my training is with pull-ups and kettlebell presses – not much knee movement is required. And, by changing my pressing position, I can actually get stronger in the press.

While I am required to do a pistol squat for RKC II, I am required to perform it on one side only. The knee that popped is my right knee – my strong pistol squat side. Perhaps this is a strange way of making me work more on my left side.
For the month of January I had to train around the injury. Getting X-ray and MRI results took time, and I needed to maintain some level of fitness in case it was something minor. I did pull-up ladders and press ladders, and left leg pistols. Swings and snatches were relegated to demonstrating purposes only; Turkish Getups were done only when I felt pain-free, and with little or no weight. (Think bottoms-up bells, or with a cup of water on my hand).

I iced and rested the knee as needed, and Advil became a friend to reduce inflammation. The last thing I needed was to make something worse because of stupidity.

Because I couldn’t do cardio (no bike, little swings, and swimming was out because I didn’t want to overtax my shoulders), I had to change my diet in order to maintain weight. Salads became the norm for lunch, and I watched my portion sizes religiously. The result was a loss of 12 pounds in a month. And I learned to make some kick-ass salads.

But what scared me the most was the uncertainty of the pain. This Monday the swelling and pain was so bad, it was difficult, at best, to walk. I had to teach classes (Monday night the gym was the most packed it has ever been!), so rest was out of the question. The pain was so bad Monday night, I had tremendous difficulty sleeping. However, Tuesday I awoke with no pain, and stranger yet – no indication that I ever had an injury. Bizarre.

A painful day like that at RKC II would be the end of my hopes for advancement.

Today I finally got in to see the doctor. The good news is that it is not an ACL tear. The bad news is he thinks it might be a small tear to the lateral meniscus – but not so bad that I can’t continue the training for RKCII, which is now just 12 short weeks away.

We still won’t know for sure for a few more weeks. I received a steroid injection this morning, which will help reduce any inflammation, and I am supposed to rest the knee today. I will teach class in jeans tonight, so as to reduce the temptation to do anything that might negate the treatment.

Doc says the injection will lessen the likelihood of a flare-up like I had Monday, and give me my best shot at RKC II. But it is still not guaranteed.

I’m at peace with that. I have been looking at this as a journey, and not a destination. If my journey takes a detour to a later certification, it only means I got to see more sights along the way. I’ll still be pulling for my friends who will be making that trek in 12 weeks, and will not have any bitterness.

Stay strong.