In the Classroom, Actual and Metaphorical

I spent Saturday and Sunday at a Level 1 coaching clinic sponsored by the USATF. Not all of it pertained to running per se, but despite that, 99 percent of it was still quite interesting. The presenters were articulate, learned, and funny—who could ask for more. No offense to the very fine RRCA, but this weekend’s course was by far the better of the two coaching clinics I’ve ever attended.

It was just as well that I was confined to a chair for two days—kept me from weeping with frustration over my re-injured piriformis (a.k.a. my butt). I’m afraid I whined too much to the three other women from my club who were taking the course. So much that today I feel whined out. What’s really shutting me up is an article I was just reading about the 2012 Houston Marathon trials. I hadn't known that the 2012 men’s trial winner, Meb Keflezighi, was only able to place eighth in the 2007 Olympic Trials—small matter of running on a fractured hip. And by the way, last Saturday he won by running a marathon PR.

My hip isn’t even broken! But, man, it is sore. Walking my usual mile from the SF bus terminal into work this morning was a halting affair. Oddly, however, I’m not freaked out. At least for today I am willing to take things one day at a time—even one step at a time, to coin a phrase—and have faith that my recovery will take the form it needs to take. (This is my lesson of the week, courtesy of life, a.k.a. the metaphorical classroom.) I’m even entertaining the possibility that I won’t be able to run long again anytime soon. And, being 65 years old, I’m accepting the outside possibility that I won’t be able to run long ever again.

But I’m stretching and strengthening and cross-training (very cross, some days), and not abandoning hope. I feel blessed to be in good physical shape and in excellent health, and believe that the nature of my running life, whatever it turns out to be, won’t ultimately affect those two conditions. Stay tuned.