Runners are prone to injuries because of the constant pounding their legs, feet and knees are subject to. Picture a grand piano dropped from a second story window, which then bounces upward as though tied to a bungee cord and is then dropped – again (I don’t know of any scientific studies which have actually tested this theory but then I don’t know how to play the piano either).
That’s what it’s like – or so I’ve heard. In the year and a half I’ve been at this game, I have never been injured (though I hesitate to admit that to both of my regular readers – my mother being one of them – because saying a certain has never happened to you is a guarantee that it will happen to you – except in the case of being named People Magazine’s Sexiest Woman Alive). Runners suffer injuries with names like: Achilles tendonitis, plantar fasciitis, bone spurs, iliotibical band syndrome, shin splints and bursitis.
I attribute my excellent running health to the fact that I have no idea where any of these body parts – or their associated injuries – are. When I’ve felt an ache or pain, I just attributed it to malaria, the bubonic plague or an enlarged prostate.
A friend of mine, who knows about such things, told me that since I didn’t start running until my mid-50s and my joints, tendons and knees are still intact, I may very well have 30 years of running ahead of me.
I just laughed. After all, I intend to qualify for the Boston Marathon one day. I figure that at my current pace, I’ll finally reach a qualifying time (which increases by age) by the time I’ve turned 106. Which is actually some 40 years of running ahead of me.
Last week I logged only 12 miles – an 8 and a 4 mile run – because of afternoon obligations and – call me crazy – an inability to rise at 5:00 a.m. before work 5:00 to go out in the 40 degree temperature to run. I did set my alarm but when it went off I pretended it was the starter’s gun and ran my half in my dreams.