In random order:

• Last year at this time, I was training for my first marathon and completing twenty-mile runs. Now, I can’t even walk around the block.
• I have one half remaining to complete this year’s Rhode Masters series. I know that I couldn’t even walk it.
• I need to accept that the New York City Marathon is not going to happen. They’re (maybe) going to send a medal I never got close to earning. And that sucks.
• Remember that time in 1998 when you tried to go tanning in a tanning bed, freaked out, and pulled the emergency stop after three minutes? Yeah, you can’t do that this time.
• How can I possibly stay still for thirty minutes?
• Will I have to take out my nose ring? I hope I don’t have to take out my nose ring. I can’t get it back in by myself.
• What if my running and November Project friends forget about me?
• What if they find something terrible?
• What if they can’t find anything wrong with my knee and cannot find a reason why my kneecap moves in all directions, and I can barely walk Banjo around the block?
• My knee has popped every time I’ve bent it for the past two weeks; why did it stop popping the day of my MRI?
• What if I can’t work out for months, and I gain weight?
• If I need to have surgery, Mike will have to do so much around the house, and he already does so much. This is going to suck for him.
• Will I ever be able to run again?
• Will I ever be able to work out again?
• At least I have an excuse to skip PR day when November Project resumes.
• If I need surgery, I hope I can get it done soon. I know Covid is backing up non-emergency procedures.
• At least this is happening during Covid, so I can teach from home and not have to worry about being out of work for four-twelve weeks. There’s no way I could trek up and down three flights of stairs multiple times a day!
• Poor Liam already does so much; he’s going to have to do even more.
• Poor Banjo misses long walks. I miss long walks, too.