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King Nestor

Am afflicted with a recurring problem with my right leg. When I do a lot of walking, more than usual, the back of my knee feels stiff, uncomfortable, and if I continue to walk my leg begins to swell. My remedy is to lay off and apply an ice pack. But this takes time. Perhaps a week or two. Which does not make me happy.

The sun is shining and I want to go to the creek and surrounding woods. I should see the doctor, get checked out, but I am reluctant because my financial situation is, shall we say, strained and requires continued frugality. My practice throughout the years has always been to allow the natural process of homeostasis to do its work. So far I’ve been lucky.

The worst part of being thus immobilized is that without the distraction of nature and vigorous physical activity, all sorts of geriatric symptoms like numerous other aches and pains crowd in. So I must write, or I must read, or turn up the volume on Berenboim’s performance of the Beethoven Diabelli variations.

I must be like King Nestor and refuse to yield to the sorrows of old age. But I feel like a teenager trapped in a creaky old body. Holy cow, how did this happen? And why so suddenly? Why just the other day I was running six miles at dawn. Now I'm lucky if I can walk more than a mile.

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