Six months have passed since my hip surgery. My recovery was quick and uncomplicated and I rarely think about the metal components in my right hip, except when I set off metal detectors. (Last week I passed cleanly through the Columbus, GA Metro Airport metal detector. It must be broken.) My surgeon has asked me to speak with patients considering the same surgery. I’m a poster child. I am doing everything I did before the surgery, without pain. I am all the way back.
Almost. Now and then something reminds me that I’m not quite as strong as I was last December 18. Peter Vanderwarker kicked my ass biking up Heartbreak Hill this morning, and then kicked my ass again biking up Beacon Street by Boston College. Peter’s a strong biker, but a year ago I would not have been forced to watch his backside like I did today. My lungs burned and my legs had no pop, the bitter fruit of my recent lack of plyometric exercise. This morning’s set of split squat jumps was ugly, but a start. I won’t recover the last 10% writing blog posts and I need to have it back. At my age, if your workouts don’t push you forward you are falling behind. There’s no more maintaining the status quo.