In July, an orthopedic surgeon performed arthroscopic surgery to repair a torn meniscus in my knee. The doctor determined the cartridge tear reflected cumulative damage for someone in my “age range.”

I’ve never been someone in my “age range” before.

After the procedure, the surgeon told me to peddle a stationary bike the next day. So my wife drove me to the Carl Sanders YMCA where I slowly limped to the back of the gym. I carefully crawled on the bike and rode for 15 minutes in the lowest gear.

Rehab hurts.

After the agonizing workout, I eased off the bike and slowly straightened my leg. I may have whimpered quietly but in a manly sort of way. Meanwhile, a man who had spent an hour riding an adjacent bike also completed his workout.

I self-consciously gestured to my bandaged leg and said, “I’m just starting rehab after surgery.”

He responded, “But you’re HERE and that’s something.”

Yeah.

Rehab hurts.

But I’m HERE and that’s something.