November 13, 2012

Hi knees,

Keep up the good work. Really. You are the most undervalued commodity of this entire bodily arrangement, and an asset to my life as a whole.

We’ve gone great places together, seen great things, visited many a pew, grassy knoll, and hardwood floor. But something happened tonight I felt I should address. We’ve never had communication problems before, and I don’t expect any to arise now, so I’ll go ahead and shed some light on this dreadfully unfortunate oddity.

Tonight, after about 2.5 miles of light jogging, one of you started to whimper a little bit. I’m not saying any names, I don’t want to point fingers, but I’m just saying. I heard a little bit of a whimper. Now a whimper every now and again is fine. I understand the pressure placed upon you, and you have my utmost sympathy, as not all knees were fit for hundreds of miles in sometimes inclement whether, and God knows I’ve knocked you face-first into many an unassuming coffee table or two.

But I want you to know that what I heard tonight turned into more than just a whimper, at mile 2.6. This was a straight up wail. A sharp cry of defeat, a painful shriek of surrender, one in which all other muscles were completely unprepared for, not to mention the overwhelming disappointment felt deepest in the heart and mind.

There. I said it. I’m disappointed in you. I’ll take your silence as a sign that you respectfully agree. I didn’t want to say anything earlier, because I was worried it might affect your performance, but you’ve been kind of dispirited since that last half marathon. And while this minor speed bump is a bit unwarranted for us, having thus far built a relationship founded upon love, trust, and plenty of give and take, it is perfectly healthy to want to express how you feel once in awhile, and we will get through it.

Tonight I have iced you, massaged you, stretched you, bathed and swaddled you with love. I’ll take a day off from the running tomorrow. Maybe I’ll do a little yoga, would that help? But we’re going running again the day after next. I’m not sure if you understand how vital this is to good health, and, call me selfish, how fucking amazing it makes me feel afterwards.

I truly hope you will try and see things from my perspective, and take my undying love and affection for you into account.

Yours truly,

Monique Muro

Monique is an exceedingly happy human from LA. She runs the blog A Novel Quest, and writes. A lot.

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  • Debbie

    Your knee and my “desire” to run should talk and get to know each other a bit. Maybe your knee can persuade my “desire” to get my body back into motion. God knows I need to get out there again. But like your friend, knee, my aging body has no “desire” to run after that glorious half marathon. Good luck!

  • Phillip

    Your shod running. You are running heel to toe. It’s not your fault, it’s your shoes. They are forcing you to run that way. Too much cushion. If you we’re to take off your shoes and run barefoot you would run on your forefoot. This is your cure. I run in Vibram five fingers. Run injury free. Read “born to run” by Christopher McDougall. Lookup research by Harvard professor Daniel Liberman, he has a great YouTube video. Check out Vibram website. After hit me up and I will run pain free with you.