Getting Old

The left knee has firmly decided to crack and buckle each time under the constant, ryhtmic pressure of my jogging.

So. Gone are the days when I can whiz through the cool evening with Mr. Eel's Beautiful Blues plugged into my ears but not quite deafening the sounds of children laughing at the playground, the occasional cheers and jeers of teenagers at the street soccer court, the clucking of aunties in their sixties walking briskly while sharing the latest juice, the odd tinkering sounds by the blocks of flats, the endless twittering of birds like a pleasant sounding alarm clock on snooze awakening the night...

As I sat down and nursed the sharp pain that bit the core of my knee everytime my leg pounded the ground, it suddenly seemed funny how 30 minutes ago, I was dreading to put on my AdiLites and sweat the 2 large fries I ate for lunch..
And now, 30 minutes later, I realised that I may never be able to jog as long and far as I used to. Heck, even at 1 km I had to stop.. and watch ruefully as the old aged aunties breezed healthily passed me, their jibberjabber trailing along with them.

As I limped my way home, I realised how fragile we all are. A teeny splinter lodged in the index finger can disrupt us from doing so many things, it's ridiculous, really. A big juicy pimple growing anywhere visible on the face can cause trauma, distress, reclusion, and violent recklessness that can drive one to inflict self-abuse i.e using a vicious little pin to pop the damn thing. A sprained pinkie toe can make us limp awkwardly like our distant primate cousins...

Which reminds me, why do we need pinkie toes anyway when all the balancing is done by the big toe? Besides, mine is as short, ugly and useless as a frozen cocktail sausage. I can't even move the thing no matter how hard I try to will it to move. It's like trying to send telepathic messages that says "HUSH" to my crabby mother when menopause kicks in.


Back to topic.

The track, the rugged pathways, the field, have always been my element.
The bad knee has prevented me from doing the one other sport besides netball I love doing, the one sport that I can safely say I'm good at, and also the one sport I always take for granted.

Sigh. Been 2 months now. I've given up hopes of the knee healing.
Feel like a sad old woman.

:'(