Lindy Kato (Writer)

I have been photographing my right knee for exactly a year. The reason for that is because it has another kneecap growing on it. I said there was a bit of fibreglass in it. Whether I am right or wrong it sadly hasn’t grown a pearl (unless the surgeon had that). More a large clump of chicken breast described by the surgeon as a ‘complex mess’. Of course I am grateful that the thing has been removed but I can’t help grump about the fact that I was repeatedly told that it was an inflamed bursa and needed rest, ice, compression and elevation (R.I.C.E). I will need another blog to say what I think about that!
Resting is torture for someone like me. Until quite recently bed rest was considered necessary for people to recuperate, luckily for the poor bed rest was rare (couldn’t afford), plus there was a fear (sometimes justified) that taking to bed meant never getting up again (Sprague, 2004). Bed rest increased from the 1860s right through to the mid-1950s, partly because by then people could get a sickness benefit. As late as the 1960s, it was still common for strict (sometimes enforced) bed rest to be prescribed. Standard periods of prescribed bed rest were four weeks following a heart attack, three weeks after hernia surgery and two weeks following childbirth (Corcoran, 1991) and people with back problems often spent months on their backs, my Dad even had a bed that pulled down from the lounge wall because he spent so long on his back. He too has ants in his pants, it must have driven him crazy.
Space flight put a stop to the idea. Studies investigating the effect of immobility and weightlessness showed all major organs suffering because of it (Sprague, 2004). It isn’t only the physical effects; inactivity adversely affects the mind as well.
People who are insufficiently active have a 20% to 30% increased risk of death compared to people who are sufficiently active
When you are of a ‘certain age’ you lose fitness and muscle mass easily and it is very hard to gain either of those things. I haven’t had a great run of things and I have been out of action for a couple of years. I am not to train for another four weeks. That is awkward since I have entered a race in August, eight weeks away. I have to train from more than two years of inactivity to seven kilometres of forest in four weeks. To be fair it was uncharacteristically sensible of me to enter only the seven km distance.
Today I happened to be in town because I had to pick up some tiles but being so early I headed for parkrun. Not to run you understand, just to ‘hang out’ but what would be the harm in starting a short walk at the very back of the pack? I made it to the 1 km marker, beaten by someone who is almost 100 years old. I knew by 900 m that I should turn around but with the marker in my sights I lost my mental faculties. I should really have turned around at 500 m because now I am one km from my car, I am walking backwards, which is inherently dangerous, and people are looking at me funny. I cannot walk forwards, I try sideways but it isn’t as comfortable as backwards. I gaze nonchalantly towards the harbour as if I am merely enjoying the misty view rather than clinging to the bridge balustrade not really sure what to do. Quite a few people ask if I am OK, parkrun is very supportive. I just say that I overestimated my ability; most people think I made the turnaround point which I didn’t by a long way. I manage to shuffle off the bridge and find a seat. I have to sit on the arm because I can’t get down to the bench.
The tail end Charlies are coming. They know that I started the parkrun so they have to stay behind me. I am dragging my leg like Quasimodo, just dreaming of an ice pack. No sympathy required. I should have turned around sooner and I knew it. Or of course have not started, that would have been a great idea as well. One of the young lads has a fixation with the hi-vis vests wants to be at the back end as well, we hold hands briefly and I limp to the start line. The race has a long way to go but most people are already finished since the start line is at the centre of two ‘spokes’. I reassure ‘tail end’ that I do not intend to press on and they can get on with sweeping up the five km stragglers while I head for a cup of tea and a sticky bun.
There is a danger from too much physical activity, young women are especially vulnerable and the effects can be long lasting. In 1992, the American College of Sports Medicine created the term ‘Female Athlete Triad’ for the relationship between bone mineral loss, disordered eating and loss of menstruation in women athletes. In 2014, the International Olympic Committee renamed it Relative Energy Deficiency in Sport (RED-S). A New Zealand cyclist who retired from cycling after being diagnosed with RED-S set out to study the disorder.
One of our top rowers – tipped for a gold medal in Tokyo, retired because of the condition. Reading about the condition as a 15 year old, and recognising the warning signs in herself; she believed that it sounded like a ‘badge’ saying that she had trained hard enough. The Australian swimming team has also been in the news. The expectation from their coaches was that girls would not get their periods. The message clearly is not getting through.
Obviously since I have barely exercised for two years or more this isn’t something I need to worry about but when I was training for the Ironman (2013 Bucket List) my periods did stop. I thought that I had a very easy menopause, after all I was 54 and I was really relieved. Imagine my dismay when they restarted a couple of months after the Ironman and then I eventually had all the usual soaked bed and an urge to rip off all my clothes in the supermarket and at various other inappropriate moments. Who can say if I was also bitchy and irritable!!

Corcoran PJ (1991) Use it or lose it – the hazards of bed rest and inactivity. Western Journal of Medicine; 154: 5, 536-538.

Sprague AE (2004) The evolution of bed rest as a clinical intervention. Journal of Obstetric, Gynecologic, and Neonatal Nursing; 33: 5, 542-549.