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I'm 24 and my knees (right one especially) are fucked from intense walking missions in hot-ass Miami since I learned to walk. Then there's the silly backyard wrestling where, yip-dee-doo, the guys targeted my right knee for 'their favorite moves'. I imagine I won't enjoy walking by my 40's...
But I made peace with that already.
I still do what I gotta do to get where I gotta go, annoying pain or not. But if someone who just so happens to know what comes of repetitious actions on worn limbs were to tell someone else that my knee's days were numbered; a debate can go both ways. Except some signs really are as obvious as they seem.
Why did I post, the rain analogy sent it home. Or is that a metaphor? Someone help me out here.
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