Gnarly Old Guy II

I suppose I always knew the day was coming.  I wrecked my left knee in college playing rugby.  In 1983,  there was no state of the art for Anterior Cruciate Ligament reconstruction.  This was an injury that used to end sports careers, not merely delay them for a few months of rehabilitation, etc.  I lived with that unstable knee for eight years, doing untold further damage, until I had an ACL arthoplasty in 1991.  And now all of that damage has come home to roost.

Being told that a knee replacement will help manage the daily pain but require real lifestyle change is not unexpected, but is still bittersweet.  I choose to live life hard and get the most my body has to offer because I want to know what the "most" is.  Self aware persons that live hard most assuredly know that all that physical fun will end, perhaps even abruptly at some point in life.  But when the moment arrives, we experience something not unlike facing our own mortality.  We've been told, "this is the end" of how we view ourselves as individuals, and a new, different person (read: limited version of your former self) will live the rest of your life.

And so I know I need my knee replaced.  It hurts all the time.  I stopped running a couple years ago and now can barely even squirt across the street to beat the Don't Walk sign.  But I have not been convinced to take the rest of that physical step back. Of all the crap I've tried and enjoyed, I still want (and believe I can) keep with it for my own entertainment and satisfaction (even if it hurts now).  Surfing, skiing, paddleboarding, boxing (Thai and western), swimming, hard workouts, rugby, ice hockey...all of it.  The pragmatic me says, "Look, I retired from rugby at 40, and ice hockey a few years after that.  Those were big steps for me.  My  orthopedist says I can still hit the snow a few times a year if I switch from skis to a board (umm, yeah, twist my arm).  But that's a few trips a year.  Can't I continue doing something hard and fun after knee replacement?  Something that might be a physical challenge, like one of the several fighting sports I've enjoyed?"

The answer, pragmatic me knows, is "no."  And so I told Doctor R (did I mention he's a great physician?), "let's wait another year."  Immediately, I texted (I'm not "that" old) my old Brazilian Jiu Jitsu instructor, the one from my last school, and told him I was coming in to catch a submission grappling class and would be signing up again.  He was stoked in his casual, very friendly way, welcoming me as though we'd never lost touch (actually we hadn't thanks to Facebook).  The new school location is reasonably close to my home and several class times overlap my son's nightly baseball workouts, eliminating inconvenience for the family. And so in October I signed up and became, the 50-year old white belt.