Time Wounds All Heels

I’m realizing that the longer you run, the more likely it is that you get hurt in some way. Lately, I’ve been dealing with blisters. I got two nasty ones during my half marathon two weeks ago that really messed with my time. And the blisters came back this weekend during my 10-mile run. It was a great run at a 7:50 min/mile average but the last two miles were killer as my hot spots turned into full on blisters. I bought some new socks after that run, but I’m starting to believe my shoes may be the culprit. I think some experiments are in order to get to the bottom of this. If you have solutions, please send them my way.

                          

But I know that this is par for the course as I work toward longer and longer runs. This isn’t just a hobby any more, if I’m going to do this right and train for a marathon I am going to need to take care of myself and prevent injuries – if I slow down, how am I ever going to finish my 2011 bucket list? Part of this will come from reading and learning about the techniques of running. It’s more than just strapping on those shoes and going out for an hour+ run now. I will need to maximize my training time and not just dabble in tempo runs, and sprints, and pace runs – but really learn how to do them with some technique.

Life can follow the same formula. The longer you live, the more likely you are to get hurt, and the more important it is to learn an arsenal of techniques to manage the tough times. Everyone manages the pain differently. Look at me for example, I was out there running on recently recovered blisters stupidly wondering why they hurt so much again after a 10-mile run. I didn’t give enough time for them to heal. I stuck band-aids on them, but never fixed the root of the problem.

I spent some time this weekend helping my grandmother start the process of digging out of the family house. My grandfather died a little over a month ago and all of a sudden my grandmother is alone in the big house we all grew up in. My husband and I are only just beginning the process of helping her dig out from 30 years of memories. I spent a few hours sorting through a pile of clutter in what used to be my bedroom. At first it was easy – old clothes, old papers – all in either the donate or trash pile. No problem. But then as I started to dig deeper, certain things started to spark the hurt I hide. Mixed together in piles were old mementos from high school and college, with some of my mom’s clothes and even some things from when I was a baby. I dug through a bag and put my hand on my old blanket (pinky was its name) that I had not seen in years. I ran my hands over it and tears rushed out. I sat back and realized, that even though I dove into this project head on with trash bags and boxes ready to go, it wasn’t going to be that simple. The band-aids over my heart weren’t going to protect me from this. The wounds of my mom’s and grandfather’s passing have not yet had time to heal. Or maybe it’s that I’ve been moving forward too quickly that I haven’t made the time for it to heal.

Time can be an enemy but also a healer, if you let it. I wish it were as easy as running. Just read some books and learn some techniques to make it all better. I’m used to things in life that improve with practice and perseverance. That’s how I fix problems. But the wounds of life don’t always work that way.  Next week, I’ll revisit my old room with the same boxes and trash bags – but with thicker skin and an open heart ready to face the passage of time.