LEARNING PAINFUL LESSONS

Do you spend some time occasionally reflecting on the experiences of your youth? One of mine had to do with a small herd of Black Angus cattle. The cows we had known before were docile and often multi-colored because of mixed blood. Then a rich landlord brought in a herd of Black Angus. They were different from anything we had ever seen before! First, they were pure black. Then they were as wild as deer. If anything startled them, they would run straight through a normal fence. You couldn't even doctor one of them without tying them down first. We had never seen anything like them.

So, here I am of high school age walking across a pasture dotted over with Black Angus. I began to think how funny it would be to really scare one of them. I found a yearling heifer with her head down in the tall grass; and approached at an angle so as not to be seen, to slap her on the rump with both hands. And RUN! You wouldn't believe how that young cow ran for maybe 200 yards, before she even looked back at me with wild and frightened eyes. BUT before running, she had kicked me with both feet and knocked me flat of my back. So here I go, cripping around, holding my pelvis bones on each side and laughing at how I had scared that cow... but also reflecting on how fortunate I was that my little adventure had not turned out much worse. Do I need to tell you that I learned a lesson that day? (I NEVER tried to slip up on a Black Angus again!) Do I need to tell you that this is the type of lesson you never forget? It is right up there with THINGS NOT TO DO on a bicycle or roller skates. It is like stepping on the inverted tines of a garden rake and being hit in the head by the handle. You are not anxious to repeat the lessons you have learned through pain. They remain deeply etched in your memory.

Even so, we know the rules of good running. We have had the warnings of ways to avoid injury. We have been impressed by the 10% rule, about not doing too much too soon. We even know the very practical things of nothing new on race day, trying everything first on training runs, and allowing adequate recovery time. Stretching before and after running has been emphasized. Yet in actual practice these things may or may not have really impacted our lives.

I would challenge you, for example, to think of the lessons you have learned from running. Not just heard, mind you, but really learned. When you do this, you will find that most of the lessons that made a lasting impression are in some way connected with either pain or embarrassment. Other things you may or may not remember; but these you can never forget.

You have your own memories of the lessons learned: It may be concerning your last injury and the rules you broke to get it. It could be something you learned (the hard way) not to eat on race day. It may be when you forgot to double tie your shoes. You may recall the day you were beaten in the last few yards when you knew you could have finished stronger; or the time you neglected simple preparations beforehand that would have saved you a lot of hurt afterwards. You may make lots of other mistakes in the future; but I could almost guarantee that you are resolved not to make this one (whatever it is) again. It was just too painful the first time.

Thankfully, we don't have to experience all the pain personally. We can learn from the experiences of others. Have you noticed this in the articles or the advice given by veteran runners? Can't you read between the lines or by the tone of their voice to know: "HERE IS SOMETHING THEY LEARNED THROUGH PAIN"? Doesn't that usually add a special meaning to what they are trying to tell us? If only we can recognize when advice has been tested in the crucible of suffering, it will make us listen and remember. In turn, that will make our running better.

There are lessons we all have to learn in running. They may come from others or from our own painful experiences. The really important thing is, from whatever source, to learn them the first time. We don't have to repeat those things that have caused us pain or embarrassment in the past. We don't have to do again the very thing which caused us injury before. That is just a part of smart running. Regretfully, I sometimes find myself violating the rules; and suffering from something that I knew better than to do in the first place. But I am trying to renew my commitment not to do it again. Wouldn't that kind of commitment make your running more enjoyable as well???