Core Stability

Photo: Anna Cervova

A few years ago, I spent several months in training for the Marine Corps Marathon. I logged my miles, using the 1.58 mile loop around the reservoir and the 6.1 mile loop around the whole of Central Park, as work-out staples. I joined a gym so I could use the treadmill on the days it was too hot to exercise outdoors. (Like my personal favorites, the violet and the lily of the valley, I am a shade flower that wilts easily in direct sunlight. Especially since a bad episode of sunstroke.)

There were some bumps along the way. A bad bout of bronchitis in late spring set me back almost three weeks. And life intervened once or twice with other minor problems that cost me a few more precious days. Then, my friend and training partner decided to drop out, which was discouraging. But after each set-back, I picked myself up and got back on course.

I was excited. Nervous, but excited. With the setbacks, I would just barely meet the recommended training requirements and I had wanted some wiggle room. But I believed I could do it and certainly intended to try. And then. About three weeks into August I slipped on a rain-slicked sidewalk and cracked my knee. Not hard enough to break the kneecap, but hard enough to make training nigh-unto-impossible and downright foolhardy from a medical standpoint. My knee was swollen and a gruesome shade of black-purple. And it hurt like hell.

I looked at the calendar and calculated that I could give the kneecap a full week of rest and still complete my training for the Big Day. So I did it. Rest and ice. Ice and rest. By the end of the week, the knee was turning a lovely shade of puke green and bile yellow, but the swelling was down and I could walk on it without too much discomfort. I thought I could resume training right on schedule and make it to the finish line after all. Jubilant at the thought, I went to a movie to celebrate my last night of “freedom” before resuming my last few weeks of training.

I don’t remember what film I saw that night. What I remember is that I walked out of the theatre on a clear night and somehow, incredibly, my foot found a wet bit of pavement. I slipped and fell onto the curb, with all my weight coming down on the injured knee. It hurt so badly I saw cartoon stars. I couldn’t move. I thought I might vomit. But what hurt almost as much as the physical pain was the knowledge that my Marine Corps Marathon dream had been, literally, curbed.

Stunned by the bizarre fact that I had injured myself in exactly the same way twice in the space of a week and (again literally) put myself out of the running, I e-mailed a friend. He wrote back that it sounded like a core stability issue and in his usual proactive and thoughtful way sent me an exercise product designed to address that very issue. I was dubious. I blamed it on the pretty sandals I happened to be wearing on both occasions and retired the shoes. BUT. John, you are entitled to exactly ONE “I told you so.” In fact, it now seems clear to me that you were 100% right. I’ve been concentrating on strength-training for almost a year now and I know how much stronger I am than I was. I am, in every way, more centered than I was then.

Anyone who has sat at a potter’s wheel knows how important centering is. If the clay isn’t centered perfectly, it begins to wobble. At first, it may be a subtle wavering. But in a matter of seconds, you can reach a point of no return at which it becomes necessary to smash the clay and start over again. It’s a little like that in life as well. Core stability is vital to a healthy body, and it has a metaphysical resonance as well. If we stray too far from our center – our core values – we stumble. Sometimes we even fall. At which point there’s nothing to do but pick ourselves up, dust ourselves off and do what we can to make ourselves strong enough that we won’t fall the same way again.

As for marathons? We all have them. I suspect many of us who are attracted to run the 26.2 mile versions want to do so precisely because they're so well-defined. They DO end. There IS a finish line. The challenges in our lives are not nearly so neat and tidy and sometimes it seems there is no end. But if we stay centered, if we're true to our core values, we can stay the course, regardless of what the course may be. And if -- or when -- we falter, our friends can point out the problems, offer solutions and help us if we let them.