Active resting

As has been mentioned here, active resting to me means an implacable determination not to leave the couch, but this is not what Adrián, my trainer, has in mind. By the time I was through training Bandolero (the sport is called dressage), my abs, shoulders, and arms were howling, and then I got Thursday's training confused with Friday's and spent yesterday trying to run uphill instead of an easy trot on flat land.-----------------------------------------------------------------------The upshot is that today from the get-go, it was obviously going to be a bad day, so I opted for a forced march instead of a run, but I did manage 4.8 K. One of the advantages of a brisk walk is that you can hear the nesting doves cooing, watch the sky lighten, notice that suspicious car going round and round the block, and discover the various styles of hitting the ground as runners go by you. When you are running, the only thing you notice is where the next dose of oxygen is going to come from.--------------------------------------------------------------------There are the pounders, those runners who slam their feet down. They are a mystery to me. How can they do that without permanent joint damage??? Then there are the pancake turners. These runners flop their whole foot down at once, and it sounds like a big pancake being flipped. They too are a mystery to me, because I don't see how they can get their feet in that position unless they have no movement in their ankles. There are the expensive-running-shoe terminators, who scrape along the pavement destroying their Asics. Last but not least, there are the big cats, those runners who land on the forward portion of the foot and sneak up on you silently, breathing quietly, scaring the bejesus out of you because you thought you were alone and could relieve that uncomfortable bloat left over from the tinga tostadas you had for lunch yesterday.-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------When I went to see a sports doctor, he told me not to let anyone try to change my way of hitting the ground as I run, because at my age, he told me diplomatically, you just can't teach an old dog new tricks. That's okay, because when I grow up, I'm going to be a big cat.-----------------------------------Take that, Hal.