I can hear the wind whistling. Music blaring. Tennis shoes pounding on the concrete. I follow the trail I have known for almost a year, and stop before I cross a busy street. As soon as the road clears, I take off, stretching slightly to get back onto the sidewalk. And I’m stopped. Not by my feet. Not by my fall. But the pain that struck my side. I lean over the sidewalk, holding my side. Breathing heavily.

“I knew I shouldn’t have run yet,” I said under my breath. “Now, I’ll never run again.”

I make my way back to the house, holding my side and fighting the tears that want to spill over the rim of my eyes. I pinched a nerve in my side. All because I wasn’t supposed to run.

It all started at church. I don’t remember exactly what happened, but I remember being kicked. I was kicked in the back of the leg, and at the time, didn’t know there was a problem. I stood on the small stage in my youth room and sang like any other Wednesday night.

Unfortunately, it took a few weeks to realize just how hard I was kicked. At first I couldn’t sit in certain positions without the muscles in my back locking up. It felt like I had broken my back, but it would only last a few minutes.

Then, I couldn’t sleep. No matter which way I laid, my right leg would kill me.

After about two weeks, I talked my mom into taking me to the chiropractor. And if you know me, I would never ask to go to any type of doctor. Ever. But after going I found out that the right side of my hip had been moved up by almost an inch and a half, and it was pushing against the nerve in my back. Hence, all the pain.

Of course, he put it back in place. And has nine times since then. Don’t get me wrong, he was a wonderful chiropractor. But my hip was just not going to go back in place naturally. And unfortunately, that meant no running.

I almost cried again when he said that I couldn’t run. I had been doing really well about running every night, and now I’m not even supposed to walk up stairs. Of course, that’s a little difficult when you go to Texas High School.

For a little over a year, those were my circumstances. I had to find other things to do to replace running, and of course, I had to do the stretches to help move my hip into place.

Now, it’s not really the same story. I can run again, but I’m not supposed to overwork myself. Which means, no more running by the mile. Only by how long I can go without my hip killing me.

It’s hard not being able to just run whenever I feel like it. It was a major stress reliever for me, and now it’s limited. Once it’s a habit, it’s hard to break.

Thankfully, my hip is gradually getting better. It has become less of a hindrance and more of a challenging motivation.

Of course, I’m not happy that I have a messed up hip, but I can’t really do anything about it except make the best out of it. I try and make it something that has made me stronger instead of something that tore me down.