Nearly ten years ago I worked as a summer intern in Rhode Island.� I’m originally from the Southwest, so I had a blast exploring that part of the Northeast. I hiked in New Hampshire, toured around Boston, and ran at the beaches in Rhode Island.� While exploring, I picked up a few tick bites, but so far as I noticed, none were from small deer ticks, nor did they cause the Lyme Disease-characteristic bull’s eye rash.�

After my summer in the Northeast, I went back home to New Mexico, to finish my last year at college. �I was healthy that year and ran recreationally until one day in the next June, when after working outside, my knee felt squishy.� One week later, my left knee swelled to the size of a cantaloupe.� I saw my regular doctor, who referred me to a Rheumatologist.� Since we were in New Mexico, a state with low incidence of Lyme Disease, I was not tested for it.� The doctors suggested that maybe I had Gout or a bacterial infection called Reiter’s Syndrome, but no conclusive diagnosis was made. �I spent the Fourth of July crutching around, but by the end of the summer my knee felt basically normal.

I entered graduate school the next fall, where over the next year I used an elliptical machine to keep up with my running urges.� The elliptical machine was easy on my joints, which especially during the winter, started to feel stiff.� I went to the doctor again, but my symptoms were not acute and I was deemed obviously too young for arthritis.� So they sent me home, told me to take Ibprophen, and keep taking it easy on running.�

Another year went by.� I kept running on elliptical trainers, but when spring came, I longed to get outside and pound the pavement.� Although I still couldn’t go running, that summer I got out of the gym and onto the softball diamond. �I’m not a homerun hitter so I legged out a lot of singles, until about mid-season when one of my knees swelled again.� The weird part is that unlike the first episode, now my right knee was swelling.

I visited the doctor, where I was diagnosed with a torn ACL.� I went for a CT scan and followed up with the Orthopedic Specialist, but they failed to find evidence of a tear. The Orthopedist recommended another Rheumatologist.� The Rheumatologist who saw me was a well-pedigreed professor and Director of Rheumatology at a top-shelf school in Virginia.� After the exam he wrote a letter to the referring Orthopedic Specialist, my General Practitioner, and me.� The letter said that I was a cheerful and polite young man who was very unlikely to have Rheumatoid Arthritis.� Two of two Rheumatologists failed to test me for Lyme Disease.

During the next year, I went to the gym on many evenings, but I pined to be outside, running in the fresh air.� The next July, I was playing softball again, when once more trouble struck.� My right knee swelled, followed by my whole leg which turned black, blue, purple, and a sallow yellow.� My foot resembled one that I had once seen pickled in a jar at a museum of medical diseases.

My case piqued the curiosity of the General Practitioner who saw me this time.� Although she was puzzled at first, she tested me for Lyme disease, before sending me to the Orthopedics Specialists and yet another Rheumatologist.� The lab results came in and the penny dropped.� The Rheumatologist explained that the fluid in my leg came from what is called a Baker’s cyst brought on by Lyme Disease.� Once diagnosed, Lyme Disease is often curable with antibiotics.� Sadly, at the time of my illness, it was well-known that diagnosis was one of the biggest challenges to treatment of Lyme disease.�� Today this issue seems to be improved, and I am told that in some high-risk regions of the country, tests are conducted at even the hint of the disease. ��Lyme disease plagued me for six years before I was diagnosed.

After my last bout with Lyme disease, I was told by a Physical Therapist that I will probably never again be able to run.� Some people have called me stubborn, but I haven’t been able to bear giving up on running.� Long distance running has a feel that doesn’t translate into a gym or to an exercise machine.� My sentiment is hard to explain precisely, but I’m sure others understand it.� I started running again about two years ago with short two-milers around my neighborhood.� From there, I’ve worked my way up and this year I completed my first marathon.� But most importantly for me I’m running outside where it is just me and the road at my feet. ��It feels good to have running back in my life.