So I went to the orthopedist on Thursday about my knee.  He’s the same doctor I saw when I injured my ankle last year, and it turns out he’s also a sports medicine specialist.  I think this is why I like him so much: He’s all about figuring out the problem and doing what you can to get back to doing the activity you want to do, as opposed to stopping your activity to solve the problem (like this doctor).  Anyway, he confirmed my previous diagnosis of patellafemoral pain syndrome, which, like I mentioned before, is also called “runner’s knee.”  (By the way,  if I have a condition that can defined as “runner’s knee,” does that mean I should actually consider myself a runner?)  I had an x-ray to make sure I didn’t have anything else going on, including Osteochondritis Dissecans, OcD, which is the bone chip issue I have in my ankle.  In fact, he specifically said “OcD,” and said I’m well familiar with it because of my ankle.  I actually wasn’t sure what he meant at first, thinking, “OCD?  How does he know I wash my hands constantly?”  But then I remembered that this was the name of the bone chip condition.  Fun!  So my knee looked fine in the x-ray, no bone chip, so he gave me some hip exercises to do that will hopefully help my knee and reduce the pain.  He also said that if the pain continues, I should come back with my running shoes and he’ll have me run on the treadmill to see what’s going on.  (He mentioned other things that some people who have patellafemoral pain syndrome do, like get orthotics, and he said I could try a knee sleeve and recommended one with a strap that goes under the kneecap.)  All in all, I was pleased with the appointment.  Mostly because I went to a doctor who actually respected me, listened to my issue, and talked to me like an intelligent adult (like this doctor).  I told him what my physician said about not sending me to a physical therapist because physical therapy would only strengthen the muscles around my knee, and I look strong enough already.  He said that sometimes primary care physicians spread misinformation, and he certainly would recommend exercises (this was before the x-ray was taken).  Again, I think that the fact that he’s a sports medicine specialist makes a difference.

So I’ve been running the past few days.  I’m not so sure my knees like it.  But it feels good to be back outside, even if it’s been difficult.  (Though my knees often feel better when running than walking.)  Today I completed a 4.25-mile route around my neighborhood, running as much as I could while taking walking breaks when needed (probably ran around 3 miles or so).  On one walking break, I was stopped by a man who wanted to know where the closest grocery store was, or, more specifically, where he could buy some cigarettes.  I directed him toward the nearest gas station (don’t worry, Mom, I was going the opposite way), and he thanked me and said, “I would love the opportunity to work out with you.”  I don’t know what it was what he was attracted to more: my big ol’ stomach that jiggled with each stride or the buckets of man-sweat pouring off me. Hot.  Almost as hot as the offer of working out with the cigarette-smoking guy who says inappropriate things to strange women in front of his(?) kids.

   I mean, sex-ay.

So yeah, dude, I’d love to work out with you.  Perhaps you can take a puff of your cigarette, I can take a puff of my inhaler, and we can run off into the sunset together.  A match made in effin’ heaven.  Can’t wait to pass you on the street again sometime soon!