I think there's a sidewalk in Mesquite with an old friend's blood stained right in the middle.
Q was a junior in high school; I was a sophomore; The White Gazelle a freshman. It was a beautiful sunny day, and all we had was an easy run, mostly to keep us out of our coach's hair while he trained the sprinters. We made it about a mile from the school, and Q suddenly stumbled to the ground. She couldn't walk, had rolled her ankle (and scraped her knee), and was in tremendous pain.
Our first thought was to carry her back, but being cross country runners, neither of us was strong enough to make it a whole mile. So The White Gazelle, being the definition of awesomeness, and a sucker, sprinted back to the school to tell our coach (also her dad) that our friend and teammate was injured and needed a ride.
She sprinted a mile.
What I will always remember laughing about the most is the picture of my dear friend, The White Gazelle, attempting to tell her father about the situation immediately after sprinting a mile. Imagine being so completely out of breath, but also so concerned about your friend, and spitting out pieces of words as spurts of oxygen pump into your lungs, trying to make up for your last mile-long-sprint. Can I emphasize enough that she sprinted a whole mile?
Now imagine a good-humored father looking down at your daughter who is clearly frantic about something, wondering what in the hell she is trying to say between breaths. I believe he compared her to Lassie as he retold the story later that day.
Here's a tip for all athletes: always consider shock when you or a teammate rolls an ankle. Probably 90% of the time an ankle is rolled (or twisted), the initial shock will have you thinking you need surgery, a boot, and some incredible pain killers.
Shortly after our freshman friend took off in search of our coach and a trainer, Q realized she could, indeed, walk after all. So we started back to the school, slowly. About 100 yards from the training room, our trainer and The White Gazelle approached us in a van, ready to save the day, surprised to see us walking and talking as if nothing had happened. Not a mistake to be made twice...
Side note: Kat and I are a week and a half into our marathon training. We are following the guidelines of Hal Higdon's Novice 1 and 2 training programs. This means a beginner's mileage, while throwing in some pace work and eventually some hills. Here's a typical week's routine:
Monday: Long run (we had to move it to the beginning of the week instead of the end because of my work schedule.)
Tuesday: Rest
Wednesday: Easy/short
Thursday: Kinda Long
Friday: Easy/short
Saturday: Rest
Sunday: Cross train
It's too early to notice any/much improvement yet, but I will keep you posted.
Again, feel free to leave comments and questions. You could spark a new post.
