frailty

I'm a human being whose body has been cobbled together with duct tape and paper clips. Well, not really. But sort of. My nose was reconstructed out of some surgical product after I smashed it beyond repair in a car accident when I was 12. Half of my lower lip had to be reattached with stitches-- same accident. Broken right patella-- ditto. Broken left elbow-- ice skating. Extra cervical vertebrae in my neck-- genetics. Bunions the size of Texas-- genetics again, and possibly some bad shoe choices as a teenager. Slight tear to my Achilles tendon-- running. Chronic SI joint irritation in my lower back-- running, again. For the most part I've lived my life relatively unaffected by these various issues.

Except for the foot and back issues. The back made my marathon experience in 2006 a lesson in agony. Now, almost at the halfway point of training for the 2010 marathon, the bunion on my right foot is causing some discomfort because of toe misalignment. You should see the close-up view of the xray. The metatarsal bones look like a map of the San Andreas Fault during an 8.0 quake. The only sure-fire and lasting relief? Surgery. But that's not an option for me right now. I'm training for the marathon. Training with my heart and not always with my good sense.

But I'm lucky enough to have two amazing people in my life who are experienced marathoners and I've turned to both them for advice and understanding. T's my Jillian-- harsh and tough-- once or twice resorting to name-calling ("wimp," "weakling"). That sounds awful but she isn't. Sometimes I need that aggression to jar me out of complacency and to give me focus. There's a definite underlayer of love and generosity in her attention to my running. She's always there for me. No matter what. She cries when I hurt. She's joyful with me when I achieve a milestone.

Vince is a voice of reason. He's analytical and composed. He's been through the thunderstorm of injury and has come out into the clear blue sky. He improves steadily and methodically. He understands the tenuous balance between ambition and self-preservation. He can offer advice, not in the same emotional way as T does, but the advice is put out there with clarity and precision.

So that's what I have when I turn to my loved ones for help with my running--- heart and mind. Emotion and fact. And you know what? I need them both. Even when I don't want to listen to either-- ESPECIALLY when I don't want to listen to either.