I’ve recently been told that I should never run again. Naturally, I'd like a second opinion.

I liked the hip specialist, Dr. James Vailas, despite his terrible tidings. He seems nice enough, and pretty sharp. Viewing my X-rays, he said that I could probably run again after arthroscopic surgery to pare down the bone.

Then he saw my MRI (complete with arthrography). Apparently, my hip is somewhat worse for wear.

As Southern New Hampshire Medical Center’s Dr. Robert Stitch put it, “MRI of the patient's right hip demonstrates thinning of the weightbearing cartilage superiorly with edema in the subchondral marrow of the right femoral head and small subchondral cyst formation. The femoral articular margin is remarkable for spurring, especially medially. The acetabular margin demonstrates marrow edema as well. There is evidence for abnormal appearance of the labral margin with a focal superior labral tear.”

 In case that wasn’t entirely clear, he added his diagnosis: “Superior labral tear with osteoarthritis of the hip and cartilaginous thinning superiorly. Associated subchondral cyst formation and subchondral edema is evident involving the weightbearing surface of the right femoral head.”

Here’s what that means in English: The top of my thigh bone is shaped funny, and it bonks up against the side of the socket. The cartilage that cushions the bone is shredded, and the top of the femur is battered.

If I keep running, Doc Vailis told me, I would completely wear out my hip inside of 10 years. Arthroscopic surgery would make my hip feel better for a while, he thinks, but it won’t make it last any longer. He suggested I wait and see if it doesn’t feel better on its own, after a few more months with no running.

He also said that it’s hard to say anything for sure until he goes in for a look-see. I cling to that faint ray of hope.

I took up running again in the early 1990s, shortly before I managed to quit smoking for good. Last year, after training with a friend, I ran my first marathon, in Burlington, Vt. I liked it. I ran two more that year, both trail races. My hip started hurting last fall, but I figured I'd work it out. I kept running all winter, looking forward to more races. I ran the first five in the Western Mass Athletic Club's Grand Tree series this past spring, and I’d meant to keep going all season. After hobbling the last several miles at Soapstone, I decided I should see someone about my hip.

I started physical therapy, and did daily exercises and physical therapy twice a week. We loosened up the muscles, but the soreness stayed. Meanwhile, my first MRI showed a herniated disc to be the source of pain in my behind.

Doctors and my physical therapist, Mary Korslund, told me I should stop running, or at least cut back, but they weren’t emphatic about it and I’d already cut back. The more we learned about my hip, though, the more emphatic they became. Eventually, I stopped.

Sports as a metaphor for life is way overdone, but I can't help it: if I'd thought I had only one shot at all those races, I'd have tried harder. Still, I had a great time, and I did all right for a gimped-out guy. The friend who inspired me to start this blog is doing fantastic; she is currently the top-ranked woman and ninth overall in the WMAC “Stonehead” points rankings.

I started this blog with the intent of writing mostly about trail running, and now I guess it's going very much off track. I welcome writings about trail running from anyone who cares to submit them, but I won't be writing as much about it myself.

I can still hike, bicycle, snowshoe, canoe, kayak and swim. I don’t like to swim much, but at least I can do it. Snowboarding, dirt-biking, inline skating and cross-country skiing remain questionable, but not out of the question. I can walk pretty briskly.

I still hope to run again someday, but being able to get out and play and explore outdoors is more important to me. We only get one shot at life, so far as I know, and I want to give it my best.