Faith, hope, charity. Run, rise, rest: in Thee.

Well the kids at school have been signing up for their ECAs (extra curricular activities) and it turns out I've got my first pick of runners for Cross Country. Sorry, that's a slip! It turns out they have their first pick of ECA. Ahem. Anyway I have a group of eleven,plus a homeschool kid who'll join us too. These are kids who have survived and thrived through daily, relentless, Darwinian games of tag in our somewhat unique playground- a wooded, rooted, rocked and rutted series of 60 degree slopes reaching down to the boundary fence. Their legs are skinny and hard like driftwood, knees shiny with scars. They've been hassling me for cross country ever since I mentioned I might do it for ECA. We ran our first XC trial in PE today and they ate it up. So next Wednesday is the day. Of course it's all about the joy of running and giving them the opportunity once a week to reach in and find out who they really are; but I'd still like to find a few other schools to race against.

I'm very blessed. Done nothing to deserve it. No idea how to be properly grateful. God help me.

Thinking About.

This week, or whatever, thinking about injury.

My current crop of running ailments. Swollen right knee that doesn't stop me running but doesn't let me sprint with the kids in PE class. Something in the arch of my left foot which makes me limp for the first 20 minutes of the day, before it somehow warms up. (This has developed since I started treadmill speedwork.) Something in the lower back that prevents me tying my shoelaces in comfort- developed since I started the big downhill jumps.

I'm sure as a younger runner any one of these would have been plenty excuse to take a week off, maybe more. Now I just keep going. I'm just getting old, I figure. I'm more habituated to pain, and I've stopped expecting to be pain free. Plus, I have the sense that time is limited. I guess I'd rather run today, creaking, than hope for a perfect run at some time in the future. Pure and simple, get out there and do it.

My insight is, unless you are very blessed with a light frame, good bones, and the kind of work ethic that makes stretching something less than a grim chore, you might as well get used to the steady pain. Take a week off at the end of the season if you got to. You're saying no, but I'm talking to myself.

Daisycutting

Imagine a long, heavy bladed fighting knife, actually something like a short sword: its blade is curved forward from the handle to give more power to the stroke and bring the cutting edge at a more aggressive angle to the wincing flesh it is designed to catch, shear, and sever. This is a kukhri.

Now imagine this kukhri thrown side arm at knee height across a rugby field, spinning flat and strking down players like rows of corn. This is a flying kukhri.

Now imagine a gaggle of clueless five year olds in too big shorts, arranged into two vague lines, facing each other. Grim faced, one steps and boots a full size rugbyball along the ground at the opposing "team". Instantly, every child on the pitch, both teams, attempts to put their hands on the ball, while simultaneously holding up their shorts and wiping their grimy noses. Some grizzle. Some gape. Some trip. Some accuse others of various offences against the person. The coach blows a whistle. Nothing changes. Parent helpers sort out the various tangled arms and legs and harry the teams into facing lines. They go again.

These are the Flying Kukhris.

This is Flying Kukhris RFC, (under 7s). This is how I spent my Sunday morning. Very satisfying.

Progress sucks.

Recovered from some lost corner of my school, a book on elementary games. So this is what self publishing looked like in the 70s. Typewritten pages and stick figure drawings. Page 7. "Combatives". Combatives? Check cover. Yes Elementary Games. What's this? "Cavalry fight." Some general instructions on set up- basically pair the kids in your PE class up and get one to pick-a-back the other. Then, the immortal lines: "The general melee begins."

The general melee begins! How perfect is that? Primary school kids in a general melee. Call social services! But not yet. There's more. Next item. "Three point wrestle." Place paired kids in marked circle. On the signal, each tries to force the other to touch the mat with three body points at once. Any fair wrestling hold is permitted.

Any fair wrestling hold! Like, the Boston Crab, the Flying Dropkick, that one where they mount the ropes and backflip onto their opponent's exposed torso?

What a great book. How much does modern nanny-state schooling suck?