Claire and I celebrated 3 months post-op this weekend with a hike. Yes, you read right…a hike! No, I wasn’t ascending Kilimanjaro, but it was quite a feat nevertheless.
We started off at Cuyamaca State Park, just outside of San Diego. Our destination; middle peak trail and the summit overlooking Cuyamaca Lake. I was nervous, like a kid fresh off of training wheels. The leisurely strolls in our neighborhood had been going well and the time seemed fitting to stress-test my replacement parts. As we hit the initial ascent, I felt the demand of the trail on my wimpy little leg. It was like starting a car that had been sitting in the driveway for months. Something had definitely changed from the last time I had hiked. Needless to say, it was a very foreign feeling. I focused on my stride and kept conscious of my footing. I rested into my usual pace and my knee went into auto-pilot, weakened by surgery but structurally stronger than ever. Though the aches of the procedure still lingered, I did not have any pain in my lateral compartment. That old familiar stab of pain was gone and all that was left is the weakness from harboring such an injury.
It was a joyful moment when we got to the top. We both smiled at each other and celebrated our accomplishment all the way down. Years of planning and months of rehab finally came together in a grand re-opening of physical activity. There would be plenty of time for icing in the hours to follow but in that moment a new journey had begun and a new era of knee had commenced.
We started off at Cuyamaca State Park, just outside of San Diego. Our destination; middle peak trail and the summit overlooking Cuyamaca Lake. I was nervous, like a kid fresh off of training wheels. The leisurely strolls in our neighborhood had been going well and the time seemed fitting to stress-test my replacement parts. As we hit the initial ascent, I felt the demand of the trail on my wimpy little leg. It was like starting a car that had been sitting in the driveway for months. Something had definitely changed from the last time I had hiked. Needless to say, it was a very foreign feeling. I focused on my stride and kept conscious of my footing. I rested into my usual pace and my knee went into auto-pilot, weakened by surgery but structurally stronger than ever. Though the aches of the procedure still lingered, I did not have any pain in my lateral compartment. That old familiar stab of pain was gone and all that was left is the weakness from harboring such an injury.
It was a joyful moment when we got to the top. We both smiled at each other and celebrated our accomplishment all the way down. Years of planning and months of rehab finally came together in a grand re-opening of physical activity. There would be plenty of time for icing in the hours to follow but in that moment a new journey had begun and a new era of knee had commenced.