Thoughts from the Backwards Jogger

Yes, literally.

In an effort, I suppose, to stay true to my life’s overall theme, my knees are weird.

FYI, my knees have ALWAYS hurt. When I was a teenager running bleachers during basketball conditioning I thought it was normal– that everyone’s knees were aching.

A trip to the ortho in my 30’s when I was playing tons of team tennis and my knees were killing me revealed that no, not so much. I’m just consistently weird.

After x-raying my knees and studying the film, the doc seemed to find it genuinely amazing that I could even walk. He pointed out the uniquely non-simpatico parts of my oddly shaped joint and asked incredulously, “Are you in pain?!”

I considered directing his attention to the appropriate blank on the form I had completed while vacationing that morning in his luxurious waiting room (not) with his up to date magazines. (We landed on the moon! Who knew?!)

Instead, because I have noticed that not everyone on the planet gets my equally weird humor, I explained that I thought it was normal. That would be when he joined an increasingly large choir and their same tired old refrain to let me know I was not–normal, which brings me to the point of this post I am writing in my IPhone while I’m walking because, well, I don’t know. Don’t distract me.

Hear ye, hear ye: Having reached the delicious age of fifty I may be actually showing signs of maturity. Stop, that! I have evidence!

I’m through acting like my knees don’t hurt. I asked God for new ones and the answer seems to be, “I’d rather you appreciate the ones you have.”

I’m now doing way less jogging and way more walking. Granted, I COULD still jog all the time because I have discovered that my interesting knees DO NOT HURT ONE LITTLE BIT when I jog backwards. (What? The experiment just occured to me one day.)

That said, my darling husband does have to live in this town and the poor fellow can only be expected to endure so much ribbing about me. “Phil, I saw Shellie jogging this morning. Backwards.” What’s more, Dixie Belle acts like she doesn’t know me when I do it. So, I am raising the flag on this one. No more backwards jogging.

Unless I drive out to the turn roads on the farm.

Hugs, Shellie

~And we have now made it back to the dock. Here’s a pic of my loyal friend now. I can’t imagine why she won’t look at the camera…