The clock ticks....

I woke up.  That's how it started two weeks ago.  When I was younger it would have been a minor nuisance

that would  have been brushed away as easily as the cobweb highlighted in the dewy morning as I run the

trails and greenways in Nashville.  It was a sharp pain in both hips and lower back that ran down both my

legs.  I tried the old standbys.....a heating pad, advil and stretching more before and after my runs.  I even

changed my chair at work seeking relief.  I had a run approaching, a 13.1 mile run that was flat and fast.  I

had worked up to 35 - 40 miles of running per week in training.  I had the fastest run since I was in the

Marines just two weeks before, a 6 mile scorcher in less than 50 minutes.  It's not Olympic qualifying time

mind you; but for me it was exhilarating, like the perfume that lingers when a beautiful woman walks past

filling your soul with hope and memories of younger days.  I ran despite the pain, pushing on and telling myself

it would go away.  I had made a commitment both monetarily and emotionally that must be fulfilled despite my

discomfort.  I would not quit, Marines don't quit we push through.  My doctor was more practical.  An xray

demonstrated a compression of the discs in my lower spine.  The effects of age, gravity and effort culminating

in nerves irritated and angry demanding treatment and rest.  Only when satisfied by both releasing me on it's

own timetable to begin running again.

He was at practice.  In the middle of a pile of tacklers, a gaggle of body parts with limbs entangled, boys

pushing and shoving towards the ground, gravity working with momentum to create chaos.  He heard it pop

and the pain was instant.  The left forearm that was straight and strong now was broken and useless as he lay

on the bottom of the pile.  He cried.  I don't blame him, I would have too.  I like to think more from the

thoughts of plays, games and a season lost but I'm sure it hurt too.  The emergency room splinted it and the

next day in surgery the physician pushed it back into place.  The thought of that is not for the faint of heart.  I

have watched this as a nurse in the operating room and it is not done with finesse but with pure brute strength

bone grinding upon bone to reset them into their original but marred form.

We watched from the sidelines last week.  He from the field and I just stayed home.  He surrounded by his

teammates and I surrounded by my guilt, my shame and a heating pad.  He dreams of tomorrow, games and

seasons yet to be played.  I dream of recapturing my youth, running forever never tiring faster and faster.  The

clock ticks for both of us, time running on without regards to who we are, who we were and what we dream.

I only hope for him that he stays a step ahead............