Have You Seen My Vegetables?



How cute are they?


I love giving advice; but seldom follow my own.

For instance: “Go on that date and have fun! It’ll be good for you to get out there. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Then it’s my turn, and I suddenly decide that being a Nun really isn’t so bad?

Or if a friend is sick . . . instead of passing the tissues (compassion is not my gift) I’m preaching. “I think God is trying to tell you to slow down a bit and stop making yourself busy. I mean, look at your immune system!”

Yet I can have knee pain for years and push through it.

Resting is for everyone else but me. I don’t need rest. I’ll be fine with 6 ibuprofen a day, a heating pad morning and night with an ice pack immediately after exercise.

Really, I know how ridiculous I sound, but it’s like there’s a disconnect in my brain that says pain ≠ stop, it means push harder.

I went for a run in August which left with me stuck on the floor for 10 minutes, pleading with my knee to let me walk to the freezer for an ice pack. It hasn’t been right since. I’ve broken this leg twice so knee flair ups are normal, but it’s never been this bad.

I can walk without a limp, but running on it sends pain down the shin bone. I can’t bend it without getting stuck half way, grimacing and feeling like my outer tendons are going to pop out of my skin, taking my knee cap hostage.

So, I’ve been resting. No softball for this kid, only upper body weight lifting. No walks. No pavement or treadmill running. Ellipticals are ok if I go slow (boring). Biking sends me over the edge.

And I love a good cardio session!

One where it feels like you’re swallowing your own lungs. Sweat is flying everywhere, pony tail is swaying, the tunes are jamming and all of your being is begging you to stop moving while your maniac brain is tells you to keep going because, “you can’t feel your legs anymore anyway – what’s another mile?”

Oh Cardio – how I miss thee.

Instead of allowing myself to be angry at my knee for ruining my fall running season, I’ve decided to devote myself to working the rest of my body . . . and make soup!

If I can’t run and enjoy the leaves, at least I can enjoy the cozy aspect of my favorite season.

I planned a Minestrone for my Sunday afternoon. I was super excited because it was a new recipe for me, and it involved most of the vegetables I had growing in my garden.

My pleasure in using fresh vegetables grew into sheer pride when I picked the biggest carrot of the season – attached to it was this little stumpy carrot that could never grow  because of the yellow giant it shared an apartment with.

I didn’t give it much thought until I had everything washed and started to chop. I had my massive carrot next to my stumpy one. One great, the other small. One strong, the other weak. It didn’t matter, they were both going into the soup - both going to serve one purpose.

To be soup.

My left knee is like that stumpy carrot. It’s weak, it’ll never be as strong as my right one, it will always be numb in that one spot, and have that freckle on the right side.

But its purpose is to be my knee – to be a part of me, and I have to work with what I’ve got.

Is God trying to get my attention? Probably. He’s not saying, “You’re doing too much Kels,” because I’ve always been the busy type. That’s how I’m wired.

But I’m learning that to be Kelsey doesn’t necessarily mean I can never rest. To be Kelsey is to make a yummy, comforting soup out of a crappy, bum knee.