A Monkey on My (Low) Back

I tweaked my low back bowling, of all things, so I'm sitting on the sidelines while Jude and boys take a guided kayak tour through a mangrove swamp in Sarasota.  I hate to miss it but I know my back, and low back pain, and I think I just dodged a bullet by quitting during our second game at a bowling alley a couple of days ago.  I'll be out of commission for a few days - and not running - but I won't miss two or three weeks or need physical therapy if I'm careful now and don't do anything to cause further damage while my low back heals.

I know it frustrates Jude and the boys when I hurt my back because it limits what I can do.  This is especially true on vacation when we all are so active.  Still, having dealt with low back pain and flareups for forty years, I have a pretty good feel for how bad it is and what I need to do, or not do, to minimize the recovery time.  

If you haven't had back pain - and luckily, Jude and the boys haven't had it - it's impossible to completely understand how depressing and debilitating it can be, particularly for someone like me who prides himself on being active, running, and staying fit.  Because they can't see that I'm injured, it's not obvious to them, and unconsciously, I think, it seems like I'm bailing on them or not sucking it up and fighting through the pain.  

What they don't and can't understand, though, is the very real fear I experience, every day, of having my back go out and put me down for the count for an extended period of time or, God forbid, send me to the operating table.  If you've had a back injury or back pain, you get it.  If you haven't, you don't get it.  It's just that simple.

I don't have time, right now, for the weeks of physical therapy I've had to undergo in the past when my low back has been injured.  I'm too busy at work and with the boys to be driving to and from physical therapy appointments two or three times a week.  That's part of the reason why, when I tweak my low back, I shut it down.  No running.  No unnecessarily stress or strain on my back.  Lots of rest.

Also, I don't want to be off running for very long.  I trace my longevity as a runner to the fact that I'm careful.  If I'm hurt or don't feel right, regardless of whether it's my right knee, hip pain, or low back pain, I shut it down.  Better to rest for a bit and live to run another day, or days.  In other words, the long view.      

When my low back is hurting, like it has been the last couple of days, I feel old, which is ironic, since I turn 56 tomorrow.  And 56 sure as hell is old, although most of the time - when my back is not hurting, that is - I feel significantly younger.  Running, of course, keeps me young or, at least, makes me feel young.

So, as I sit in Breaking Waves, a coffee shop in Sarasota, on a scorching hot Friday afternoon the day before my birthday, do I feel like I'm turning 56 tomorrow?  My low back pain notwithstanding, not really.  I sure as hell don't act like I'm 56 years old.  

I'm guessing not many 56 year old men run five miles with their 14 year old son like I did two days ago.  Of course, the universe of 56 year old men who have 14 year old sons is probably not a large one, so there's that.  Still, of JP's friends, I'm guessing very few of their fathers run with their sons.  I do and I love it.  Every run I have with JP is a gift and something I never take for granted. 

 

Soon, I hope - maybe later this summer or in the fall - Joe will join JP and me for a run.  Dream come true?  For me, yes.  For sure.

Recently, the first couple of guys from my friend group have retired, at least from full time work.  That's almost incomprehensible to me, although I'm happy for them.  A couple of others are close to retiring, I think.  Those guys have children who are out of college or, in the case of one of them, no children at all.  Still, I mean, wow.

I am a long way from retiring or even slowing down from a work standpoint.  For one thing, the boys are obviously young and have several years of private school in the future, then college.  As a lawyer, I think you really hit your stride in you fifties or early sixties.  I don't know many lawyers who retire early.  I guess it's not in our nature.  

In truth, 56 is not going to feel any different from 55.  As I told JP after our run a couple of days ago, it turns out I don't need a lot to be happy beyond the basics (food, shelter, family).  The ability to run.  Coffee.  A good book.  A subscription to the New Yorker.  Music.  A good glass of wine or a bourbon, straight up with one large ice cube.  That's pretty much it.  

Notice that none of those things involve a lot of money.

What do I want for my birthday?  My answer is almost always the same, year after year.  Nothing, because I've got everything I need.  Jude, JP, and Joe.  

What more could I ask for?  The answer is easy.  Nothing.  Nothing at all.