Exercising my demons

How I lost running but found another way to be healthy

I used to run. I loved to run.

For years I’d been a runner. As a young kid I ran with a friend, making up tunes to help us keep pace with each other. It’s been part of me for as long as I can remember. Not always frequently. Sometimes very frequently.

Running allowed me to spend time on me and make decisions for me. To choose how far, how fast, for how long, in which direction. When things didn’t go so well in life it was my fallback — a way to spend time thinking about something else, losing myself in the steady rhythm of my feet, the wind pulling my hair. That smug feeling afterwards of having achieved something.

The challenge

In early 2018 I decided to set myself a challenge: to run a half marathon every month for a year. Not a target that would challenge a serious runner, but as a 53 year old man it felt like something I could be proud of when I looked back at the end of the year.

So in January that year I started on my challenge. It was hard, but I felt good about myself; wearing the aches and pains that went with it with pride. February — another one achieved. March — and another.

And then….

A 10km run after my last half, just to keep up my distances. I felt a niggle in my knee. Something didn’t feel right. I went out running the next day, this time easing back on my pace a bit. It felt worse.

I rested for a week, sure that it would sort itself. It didn’t. A short 3km felt as painful. A further rest of two weeks before the next try. This time it really hurt.

I wanted to sort things quickly; to get back to running as soon as I could. I found a sports physiotherapist and started doing rehabilitation exercises. The working theory was that my leg muscles didn’t properly support my knee, and this could put things right.

Towards the end of July I started again, half running and half walking. I built back up my distance gradually; 1.3km, 2.7km, this was working, 3.5km, feeling more confident, then a 5km in mid-August.

The pain was so bad I could barely walk. I limped home.

The end of the road

Doctors visits followed; an X-ray, MRI scan, steroid injection, more physio, an orthopaedics consultation. It was found I had a meniscus tear and the onset of osteoarthritis. I should expect that at my age. Running? Not advisable — the strain on joints, the impact the knee sustains. Not recommended, not at my age. Yes, an operation could be done. It might help….

In an instant it was gone. My challenge. My time. My fallback. No more running.

I didn’t realise how much it would affect me. Physically, things declined further. At my worst point I couldn’t walk to the top of our street. No walking to work with my wife either (a shared time that meant a lot to us) and pain while sleeping.

Time and rest helped the pain subside, and my ability to walk reasonable distances returned, but my mood didn’t. By January 2019 I was at my lowest point. Miserable at work, having lost all my self confidence, I fell apart one morning, in tears on the phone to my manager telling him I couldn’t come in as I couldn’t stop crying. I felt old. I felt useless. This was now the road ahead of me; a gradual onset of aches and pains, slowing me down to a full stop.

A turning point

Coming up on the anniversary of my injury, after almost a year without running, I made a choice. If I couldn’t have running then I was going to do something else to feel better.

I’d also been shaken by a statistic I’d read about men over 50 losing 1% muscle mass per year. Per year?!

I’d toyed with the idea of a personal trainer earlier, but to be honest the cost put me off. And it also felt like a middle-class, middle aged thing to do. Previous attempts to join a gym years ago had been an expensive waste of time, tied into a contract for a year and not really knowing what I was doing. Why would this be any different?

I hadn’t figured on Adela.

Training with Adela

I started with Adela as my personal trainer in March 2019. On my first workout I counted 24 different exercises over that two hour session. Exhausted, exhilarated, excited — by the time I reached home I was really emotional. It had been so long since I’d felt good about myself. I wasn’t falling apart, I could do this stuff.

She introduced me to the concept of DOMS (Delayed Onset Muscle Soreness) and told me I’d grow to love it. It hurt and I didn’t love it. Well, not at first. But this pain felt like progress, not regress.

I started to get problems with my left wrist (from an old fracture). Did I get sympathy? Did I get let off? I did not — Adela gave me strengthening exercises instead. I took to wearing a wrist brace while I exercised but I kept going.

As I got stronger, my worries about my knee got weaker. The date for my operation came through — I asked to delay it. Then I cancelled it. I had the occasional setback, the odd unplanned rest day if things hurt, the odd exercise I had to avoid. But now I was on a roll.

The real difference was from having someone on my side, knowing how best to help me, getting me through the tough parts, cheering me on at every turn. Every milestone is a celebration. Every achievement is jointly shared. Adela is the personal in personal trainer. I love her to bits for what she does and the huge difference she’s made to my life.

Where I am now

I’m 20 weeks into my new way of living.

Whereas in the past I may have run for 2–3 hours a week, now I’m at the gym for 5 hours a week. 5am starts. Protein shakes afterwards.

My muscle mass has increased, my body fat reduced and my balance has improved. I’m lifting weights I never thought I could. I don’t quite recognise myself in the mirror; there are muscles — I never had those before!

But that’s just the physical stuff. That’s not the real win. I’ve found my self confidence again. I’m setting new milestones and I’m hitting them. I don’t feel old. I don’t feel useless.

Last week I stopped wearing my wrist brace — I don’t need it (I’ve not even followed up on the wrist x-ray I had a while back). I’m not afraid of every ache and pain I get any more. My strength doesn’t just come from those new muscles. I’ve become more engaged with work and bolder in making decisions.

Like being part way along one of the long runs I used to do, I’m not sure how far, how fast, for how long, or in which direction it will all go. But I’m loving the journey.