Coming to terms with an important business or life decision can be an utterly excruciating exercise. This is especially true when the decision will result in significant or undesirable change, or if the one facing the change is unprepared for the outcome. I preach preparation and execution constantly, and yet somehow I’m the guy who’s unprepared and struggling with imminent change.

My health issues happened somewhat out of the blue. In the weeks after finishing 6^th overall in the 6-hour Bad Ass Trail Run last November, I started to feel a certain wonkiness in my right knee. I kept running trails almost daily with Jack throughout the winter months and ran a marathon in the Nevada desert in January despite an increasing level of discomfort and stiffness in my knee. As a grey fifty+ year old with an aggressive running schedule and training regimen, I’ve gotten used to aches and pains and hobbling to the washroom in the middle of the night, so I didn’t really think much of it. But by February, I could barely run 5 kilometers without my knee stiffening up and I pulled up lame after a mere 100 meters during a recent run in Vancouver. My physiotherapist believed the issue was muscular at first and set course to improve my strength and flexibility, but when things didn’t really improve over time, I decided to seek other opinions.

– Happy run in January with Jack

Thinking my problems were potentially arthritic in nature, my first visit was to see a rheumatologist, who immediately sent me off for an x-ray and MRI. The results of these tests left no doubt, and I was diagnosed with a complex tear in my meniscus and strained MCL, although the origins of these injuries could not be pinpointed. I was referred to a knee specialist as a candidate for surgery, who subsequently referred me to an even more focused specialist for a second look this upcoming week. The consensus amongst the doctors I have seen so far is that my issue is more likely old-man wear-and-tear-related than injury-related, and my meniscus is basically starting to fall apart with displaced fragments. Cue the gut punch, because this feels like the beginning of the end.

As much as I feel off kilter and surprised by what has transpired, the reality is that this situation was highly predictable and I’m kicking myself for being caught off guard and not having a plan. The schedule I’ve kept for the last 15 years was unsustainable and the repercussions of my choices have led to my unravelling. Father time only goes in one direction after all, and I’m an old guy with an aging body trying desperately to turn back the clock in a young man’s sport chasing people much younger than me.

The choices facing me now range from sucking up the pain and continuing to do what I do (which makes absolutely no sense) to going under the knife at this age with no assured outcome, as well as various options in between. Some in my entourage have even suggested that I should consider hanging up the shoes and looking for a new hobby, and I must admit that even I’ve heard voices in my head saying the same thing lately. I already canned a downhill marathon in New Hampshire in early May due to my knee and I have a 160-km ultramarathon planned for May 25 that I have not yet cancelled, hopefully awaiting the results of my next appointment this week.

As I write these words, I’ve basically come to terms with the fact that I haven’t yet come to terms with my imminent life changes, and I’m being torn to shreds internally. Running is an integral part of my life and is responsible for redefining the person I am today. My running experience is also a focal point of this website, which took flight to help me examine interests and transition to the next phases in my life. How ironic that mere weeks after its launch, the site is documenting my potential exit from the very sport it’s centred around. The hilarity of this is not lost on me.

I’m 5 days out from my 160-km ultramarathon, and I’ve decided not to decide on my future and I’m going to proceed with my run despite the mountain of reasons to look the other way. Will the run be a disaster? Will it provide an unexpected result? Will it provide me with closure? Only time will tell. I’m prepared to fail miserably or succeed against all odds. I’m not scared of the outcome in any way, but petrified of not staring my destiny in the face, so onward I must proceed. For now…

– I’ve had a great run, literally, and I have nothing left to prove. Or do I?