Still Shots
I don’t know about you, but throughout my adult life I’ve taken mental still shots of moments as they unfold. I’m not talking about births, graduations, weddings, anniversaries and funerals. I’m talking about everyday snapshots that you almost subconsciously contribute to your life’s album, and which only you can retrieve and rifle through when the mood fits.
I distinctly recall the moment Labor Day weekend when the pain in my achilles tendon became a little too pronounced, and I wondered if this was my final “long run.” As such, I instinctively took in the penetrating sun overhead; my sweaty running friends struggling in the heat; the spires of the striking Hotel Del Coronado just ahead; the sound of the crashing waves beyond the breakers to my right; and the smell of the Starbucks coffees a vacationing couple carried, along with the cutest poodle, as they passed by me.
The Coronado I returned to yesterday was quite a contrast. It was windy and rainy and pretty darn cold if you didn’t move quickly enough. The roads were slick; some parked cars partially submerged on flat residential streets whose matchless, older bungalows and real front yards along tree-lined streets made the neighborhood look like any small town on a blustery fall morning. There were still runners and walkers out in the foul weather, about a dozen of them belonging to our fall training group.
I got a ride to our aid station at Sunset Park and ran the three miles back to home base at Tidelands Park, just north of the Coronado Bridge. I’ve no idea my pace because I forgot to hit my stopwatch and heart rate monitor until about the midway mark. I do know I was slower and that I did something I’d never done before: paid close attention to my foot strikes, carefully landing on my heel and curling up through the toe. It was the only way to make the dull-yet-distinct ankle pain manageable. I vowed to walk if needed, but my body just went on auto-pilot and kept going. My mind did too, soaking up a sparse supply of endorphins that only an out-of-shape athlete could release just minutes into a run.
At least that’s how it felt, and that’s what I’ll carry with me as I continue to treat my achilles tendonitis with a little more conviction and contemplate a future where I still have a shot at regularly running again.
