Freshman year of high school during the try-out-five-different-events-so-the-coaches-can-see-if-you're-good-at-anything-else stage of the track season, I decided to do the high jump and ended up being pretty good at it. I cleared 5' 8" and I think I medaled in the county freshman championships. Whatever happened, the future looked bright and I expected to clear 7' by the end of my senior year.
Fast forward to sophomore year and after increasing my personal best by an Olympian two inches, it became quite apparent that there was a direct correlation between the pain in my left knee and the amount of time spent Fosbury Flopping.
I left a visit with the good old physical therapist with a diagnosis of patellar tendonitis and a free pass to stop high jumping which I had come to hate. Of course I ignored the doctor's orders to stretch and do whatever he prescribed for me, but the pain went away because I wasn't jumping which was good enough for me.
La la la la, hoola hooping through life sans knee pain until BAM! I get sidelined during the early Spring track season of my freshman year of college. Four years later after a solid summer of training cross country training, I'm running around in the hills of Northern Maryland and BAM! I'm sidelined for a week and lose two to three weeks worth of fitness. Three years later training for a 2650 mile hike and BAM! wouldn't you know?
I should have known that box jumps wouldn't be any good for me, but when you ignore a doctor's orders on how to best heal your knee 11 years ago, you're not going to suddenly remember what he said when you're drawing up a new workout plan for yourself.
Oh well. (Knock on wood) Looks like I caught it pretty early and my new PT (who I will not ignore) said I should be fine if I lay off the jumping and running, do some stim and massage, and these exercises:
Either way, I'm glad I've been having knee issues since 14. That will make for some fun times at 60.
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