Fear & Being Careful

I remember a lot of key people in my life. There was the math teacher in elementary school who believed in me. There was the coach in middle school that made the days go by a lot better. There was the family members that did that too. I just bring this up because I think it has taken me a long time to admit that maybe some of the advice that was given back then, was meant to be well, but changed the person I was to something that I didn't expected - to something that no one expected.

It's not going to change my opinion of the coach in middle school. I don't know how many times I was ready to entirely withdraw into my own little world and his humor would drag me back into the social world around him. He understood what I was going thru while my father was having his second heart surgery at the beginning of my 8th grade year. He was also there when I was hurt. And boy did I ever get hurt. Knee - ankle - hip -- if it was attached to my right leg, it was hurt.

Going into high school, I was facing surgery. I was scared of what I was going to do afterwards. I had lost a lot of my friends because they were playing soccer and I was waiting to go underneath the knife. I went and saw him the night before the surgery. He comforted me and told me that things would be fine. But that spring, while I was thinking of playing ball, it just didn't seem to hold the fire that it once did. Something had changed. It was perhaps his suggestion that I needed to be careful with my leg, because I'd want to walk without pain when I was 30.

Now that I'm about to be that age, I look back and see how I became so careful. It's scary. I'm not the same type of person that I was when I played sports. Did his one comment impact more than just sports and friends? I'm always so afraid that what I do now might permanently impact something down the line. But then, am I missing out on things now?

This probably wouldn't even be a thought if it wasn't for the knee going bad again. Last year, when it was hurting again - I had to fight to get back what I wanted to - to walk the trail on the South Side. Then, when it was better, I didn't want to be released from Physical Therapy. In fact, it scared the shit out of me. I felt that I was ready.

And then it was suggested, that my goal of just walking 5 K's and perhaps the one 10 K Great Race was actually short changing myself. At first, the thought that I could do more than that - was insane. Who would even suggest that a half marathon was possible for me?

I know it wasn't meant to be one of those comments that I would think about a lot. It was some sort of motivation to get me out there and continuing to move. (Although it did take me two to three weeks to finally walk a hill). But I look back and I entirely wonder - how much have I short changed my life? How many times have I written off things as being things I couldn't do? Does this all go back to being careful -- to be able to walk when I'm 30.

I'm going to be that age... and I can walk. I can do a lot of other things too. It's just time to start exploring those other things again.