One of the less glamorous parts of getting older is discovering that old injuries never really leave. They just wait. Quietly. Patiently. And then, out of nowhere, they remind you they’re still there.
That happened to me yesterday.
Years ago, I hurt my left foot. I don’t even remember every detail now, only that I did enough jogging back then that maybe all that pounding had something to do with it, as did landing half on and half off the curb a few times over the years and twisting it. Whatever the ultimate cause, the injury, or injuries, never completely vanished the way I hoped. I did get it checked out from time to time and was ordered to take it easy for a bit, but in those days, when it came to taking it easy on the jogging, that meant taking two days off, and then running two or three miles every day for three weeks, instead of my regular six or more. I was young and in great shape and thought I was invincible.
Most of the time my foot behaves itself. I can walk normally and barely think about it, almost like the old injury has finally decided to leave me alone. But every now and then, it reminds me that it hasn’t actually gone anywhere.
Yesterday was one of those days. I had walked about a kilometer to the local convenience store. Just a simple walk, stretch the legs, get a little fresh air, and buy some cream for my coffee.
The clerk there is friendly, and we ended up talking for a few minutes. You do that a lot in small towns. The topic drifted to one that seems to come up more often these days – getting older and the little aches and pains that show up whether you invite them or not.
I mentioned that in many ways, I actually feel younger than my dad did at the same age. And honestly, I still believe that. Then I started walking home. About halfway back, I stepped down off the curb, left foot first, just slightly wrong. Nothing dramatic. Just one of those ordinary steps that suddenly isn’t so ordinary.
Bang. The old injury lit up like a warning flare. Not a dull ache. Real pain. The kind that makes you stop for a minute and immediately change the way you walk. And just like that, I was limping.
I made it home, checked things out, and there was no swelling or anything obvious. No bruising. Nothing dramatic to see. Just that deep reminder somewhere inside the foot that something in there isn’t quite the way it used to be.
The timing, though, was almost funny. Five minutes earlier, I had been explaining how I felt younger than my dad did at this age. Apparently, my left foot heard the conversation and decided to weigh in.
The pain eventually settled down, like it always does. After sitting and doing some random foot exercises for a while, the pain gradually faded until everything felt normal again.
Which is often how these things go. Old injuries are like that. They behave themselves for long stretches of time, and then, when you least expect it, they decide to remind you they’re still around.
Lately I’ve also been doing squats and toe raises to try to stay a little stronger as the years pile up. That might be aggravating it a bit, too. Sometimes I forget that while exercise is good, my body is no longer the same one I had decades ago. I also think the hardwood floors in my place contribute to it. They look nice, but they have absolutely no give. I’d rather walk on asphalt than hardwood. At least asphalt seems to absorb something. Hardwood just sends the message straight back up your leg. However, I did get an area rug for my bedroom and it does help.
I’ve known basketball players who deal with foot and leg problems for exactly that reason. They don’t call a basketball court the hardwood for nothing. And I still remember gym class in high school when we had to run laps around the gym on rainy days. Even in the great shape I was in back then, my feet and shins would start hurting during the first few laps. I’m pretty sure I wasn’t the only one.
I suppose that’s the real adjustment. Somewhere in your mind, you still feel like you’re the same person you were years ago. You walk and move the same way. But the body occasionally sends a reminder that it has a longer memory than you do.
So I semi-limped for a while, then gradually resumed my normal walking style the rest of the way home, and the pain faded away as if it had never happened. Which of course, means everything is fine again.
Right up until the next time I step wrong and my left foot decides it has another opinion about getting older.
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