Just in case you didn't know...
This is related to my last article, but I figured it's mostly a different topic, so I'd make it a separate article. If after reading this, you don't see the logic, just remember that 30 is better than 15...
While running this morning, I twisted my ankle a little. Not really badly, just enough to make me wince and hop a couple steps. I have pretty resiliant ankles, though. I've sprained both of them so many times over the years that the physical therapist has told me I'm just one really bad sprain away from surgery. He told me that I've pretty well blown both ankles and that I'm more likely to roll them. He said, most of the time, it will be like this morning where I recover quickly and suffer no real ill effects, but he also said, I'm at a greater risk of really bad sprains or even breaking something.
The primary reason for this? Edger Hell. For some reason, I run as close to the edge of the sidewalk or road as I can. I do this without conscious thought and even when I notice that I'm doing it, I'm usually powerless to change it. I just gravitate to the edge. I know what you may be thinking. Running on the edge is a good way to cut a little off the distance off a run. You take the inside track on a curve and you run less than the outside track. Well, the things is, once I pick an edge, I stick with it. So, inside or outside of the curve, I'm on it. So, it's not a distance thing, although it may have started that way.
When I was in high school I ran track and cross country. It was there that I first encountered Edger Hell. But in a different form. We had a guy on the team named Grant. Grant was a great guy. We sometimes called him the weatherman, because he always knew the weather forecast. And not just the temps and chance of rain. He would go on at great length about rising barometers and low pressure systems and just figured we knew exactly what he was talking about. Well, Grant had a habit when he was running to edge over and cut off people that were running next to him. He didn't do it on purpose, it was just part of his style (a competitive edge, if you will). When he did it in a race, it would often help him, but when we were out running at practice as a team, it got annoying.
One day, someone asked him about it. He immediately started into the history of Edger Hell. He told us that Edger Hell was an internationally famous distance runner from Ethiopia. He went into a long list of the races he'd won and how everyone respected him. He also told us that Edger Hell was the first to develop the strategy of edging over on runners that were next to you in order to disrupt their rhythm and keep them from passing you. At the end of his story, he immediately confessed that he'd made it up all on the spot. That was nice of him because he had most of us going and he let us off the hook without embarrassing us.
He then told us the true origin of Edger Hell. Grant had a lawn service business that he'd built up over the years. He started his freshman year cutting lawns in his neighborhood with a gas powered push mower. By his junior year, he had a pick up truck and small trailer. He'd added several more pieces of lawn gear. He'd saved up enough money that he was going to be able to sell off his business after graduation and be able to pay for his college with money left over.
One of the pieces of equipment that he added that summer (right before our junior year), was an edger. He'd nicknamed it Edger Hell. It was used when he got it and had a tendency to coat him in dust and dirt (as most edgers will to different degrees). He told us that he'd have to stop regularly to clean the front of his goggles off, in order to see. Early on, he'd thought that working with this edger was pure hell. So, Edger Hell was born.
And today, Edger Hell has evolved for me. Edger Hell to me is all the sprained ankles I get from running so close to the edge. Just thought I'd share...
