Most injuries are the result of pushing ourselves past our limits. We reach the breaking point of our physiology. When we do this, we receive the only appropriate punishment -- an injury.
My recent back injury reminded me of my mortality and finitude. Instead of exercising, I rested. I ate and slept. This formula proved to be sufficient penance for my sins. I am exercising again.
In athletics, as with everything in life, there can be too much of a good thing. Just as students can over-study, athletes can become over-trained and over-raced. (I once did 2 marathons on back to back weekends. Pure insanity.) It is a mystery -- this homeostasis we're all seeking. Nor is there any failproof test to warn us when we have reached our peak. I have come to the conclusion that I will probably never get this right. Few of us read our bodies that well. We love what we do so much that the impulse is to go all out and train harder. But the writer of Ecclesiastes reminds us that there is a time for everything.
A time to train and a time to nap. A time to race and a time to rest. A time to be elated and a time to accept staleness.
Am I wise enough to do this?
P.S. Today I resisted the urge to run and simply got in a long walk at the Tobacco Heritage Trail here in South Boston, VA.
Still, I managed to get in my miles for the day.
