Tonight I find myself at some very heavy crossroads to navigate.  Tomorrow I have surgery on my leg, for the next to last time, ever in my life.  I recently had surgery to put in a plate with 8 screws to aid with the fractures of my leg bones.  Tomorrow is my dreadful knee; too many operations to describe.  However this one is it; it’s the last one I will have before I need a complete knee replacement.  When I first injured myself almost 4 weeks ago, the surgeon told me I would never run again. I was crushed, I know it is selfish…so many people can’t run, walk or use their legs at all.  However I longed to keep active at only 39.  I have a thirteen year old daughter, and running road races with her was always my dream for many years to come.  On top of that I plan on more children, not to run around with them, was a jagged pill for me to try to swallow.

After my surgery two weeks ago tomorrow, I said to the surgeon, “Fuck you hard! You don’t know me! You are just giving up on my body.” “Corey,” he said, “That is not true, when I look at the images of your leg, I don’t see a leg that will ever run again.” “Well,” I said, “You don’t know me or my body. I have pushed and pushed it really hard, and when you add in the strength of my mind, I promise you Doctor I will run again.” “I don’t doubt you Corey, you are strong willed indeed.  I looked at him with a tear in my eye, “Promise me you won’t give up me, and that you will use every trick of yours surgically.” “I will do everything to see you run.”  I whispered softly, “Thank you very much.”
So my Mizuno sneakers are already bought, tomorrow my running is in the hands of the Universe.  Will I just get one more race and call it quits, or five years, maybe ten years if I really get really  lucky? I am scared, I am sad, and I am really excited. Tomorrow I will walk with out any crutches, and begin the road back to the land of well. There’s a race in the middle of June, I have my eyes set on it, in a week or two I should know if it’s realistic.
Whenever the day comes that I get to lace up my sneakers to run a road race with my daughter, I will savor every single moment, not knowing if will be my last run.  I am so grateful for at least one last run, I will crawl to the finish line, if my knee just expires. 
Life is short, and I have made mine harder, this anorexia has taken its toll.  I will pay a price for sure from that illness, but right now I am on the high road to recovery.  It is slow, no it is not very easy, but I am giving it my all, for that mercurial thing we call “hope.”
Hope is all anyone of us has, no matter if you have faith or might be a believer. Hope is all that we ever have.  I once remarked in a class of mine, “Hope is never satiated no matter what.”  It is true so I am living holding tightly to this four letter word.  I am tired but ready for surgery tomorrow. I am going to spend what is left of the day, looking up road races and yes trying on my new Mizunos. I will wear them home tomorrow filled hope from the hospital.  Tonight I will let ‘hope’ take me to places, maybe possible or perhaps out of the question.  It is like holding a lottery ticket, for just a sweet moment you are free to dream.
Born THIS WAY-2016