Three knee surgeries later
Or, how I got hooked on triathlon
It took three.
The New York University Medical Center is a sprawling facility occupying several blocks between Manhattan’s 1st and 2nd Avenues. It resides in a sort of “no man’s land”; on the East River, east of — but not-quite — Midtown, below the Upper East Side, above the Lower East Side. Walking between the hospital and nearest subway stop is no easy feat, especially for patients dealing with walking difficulty. As one of those patients, I found this fact incredibly frustrating.
I’d recently moved to the city, bringing with me a left knee compromised by years of abuse. Sprinting and sliding on the soccer field; jumping, landing, cutting on the basketball court. I’d been playing since elementary school, though, after college, my athletic career was reduced to the the occasional happy hour and random Saturdays here and there. I’d become the typical weekend warrior.
Years prior, just out of college, I suffered a devastating tear of my left ACL on the basketball court while living in Houston. Surgeons had used a piece of my patella tendon to repair my ACL. Unfortunately, they also discovered additional damage to the meniscus, a critical piece of cartilage that provides cushioning between the femur and tibia. The fix was to trim away the torn tissue, like taking biting an apple slice.
I had a second arthroscopic surgery to cut back the damaged meniscus even further at the Houston Medical Center a couple years later. Without cushioning, my bones slam and scrape together with every step, jump, and quick change in direction. Yet I couldn’t stay off the field.
By the time I scheduled an appointment with my New York surgeon, I was in pain. I could barely walk ten steps without triggering a sharp twinge in my left knee. It was so severe at times I’d have to stop and sit down. We did physical exams, X-rays, and an MRI. My surgeon recommended another surgery.
I’ll never forget what he told me, looking at the scans as he delivered sentencing of my athletic career:
You’ll be able to walk normally… but you should never run again.
Well, never say never.
I did give up basketball and soccer. The problem with giving up a sport is the void it leaves behind. I wasn’t fully aware of how team sports had been a centering device for me. Without the physical and mental challenge of competition, I was an incomplete version of myself. I was more irritable. I had less ambition. I was depressed. These sports were part of my identity. I was having a mild existential crisis. I hadn’t tried to find a replacement, probably because of stubbornness and denial.
I credit my colleague and friend, Brenn, co-host of the Cloud259 running podcast, with providing a clue that would later lead me to an answer. He convinced me to join him in the Corporate Challenge, an annual 3 miler in Central Park with thousands of entrants. Healthy, I tested the waters with a few jogs. He informally coached me at track workouts at East River Park. He suckered me into running a full loop of Central Park, over six miles, more than I had run since I was in high school. By the end of the loop, I thought I was going to pass out, but I did it, with him pulling me patiently, at snail’s pace. The event—more stampede than run—was thrilling for me. I was in pain, but it was the good kind of pain, the one experienced runners know, the runner’s high made famous by The Oatmeal. It wasn’t knee pain.
He encouraged me to try the New York City Marathon, a Mecca-event for marathoners all over the world. I was fascinated with the challenge nonetheless. Though my knee survived the Corporate Challenge, I was worried about the additional damage from training and racing 26.2 miles. I’d cheered him on in the race several times and had witnessed from afar the parade of suffering. No thanks!
If Brenn got the gears turning, his sister, Polly, pointed me in the right direction. Also a gifted endurance athlete, she was a veteran of the New York City Triathlon. The sport was hitting its peak nationwide right around that time. Though smaller and less famous than the NYC Marathon, the NYC Tri would sell out within minutes of opening for registration, traditionally on Halloween night every year.
I was shocked to hear about Polly’s 5am training rides in the park — I think I was waking up around 9:30 in those days. Hours in the pool. Long weekend “bricks”. I had no background in any of these sports but Polly showed me this was all possible. Though I sensed a big challenge, triathlon would help take some of the pressure off my poor left knee, with biking and swimming being low-impact events. I didn’t have a bike nor membership to a gym with a pool, but I just knew that I’d stumbled on something… something to fill the void.
Finally, it was my partner, Jennifer, who gave me the confidence and the support I needed to commit. It is no small thing for your loved one to stand by you and to say, I believe in you. She has given me so much to be thankful for, the very least of which was the nudge to get me off the couch and out on the road.
So, that Halloween at 11:59pm, I signed up for the 2010 New York City Triathlon.
Now I’ve been in the sport for almost seven years. I’ve done the NYC Tri five times. I’ve completed several half-Ironman events. I finally found the confidence to run the NYC Marathon. And in 2014, I became an Ironman at Coeur d’Alene.
The most surprising thing? I believe the sport has made my knee stronger; recently, there appears to be evidence that this might actually be possible. I can’t help but feel a little retribution when I think of my surgeon telling me not to run all those years ago. (Note to self: work on avoiding complacency and having gratitude for the opportunity to stay active.)
Before triathlon, I had three surgeries to repair damage in my left knee. Since? Zero. Touch wood.
Three surgeries and three special people got me started in triathlon. As I described in my last post, I am training for another Ironman, in part, to help fill another void. I may not always be able to fit this kind of training into my life, but with the support of my family, I’m grateful for the opportunity to tackle this challenge. I hope my knees will be thankful too.
Check out CrushingIron.com, a blog and podcast with tons of great insight and humor about triathlon. Hosts Mike and Rob are asking for stories about how everyday triathletes got started in the sport.
