"Inoculation is the injection of dead or weakened disease-causing bacteria or viruses into the human body in order to produce immunity against (prevent infection by) that disease. Because the organisms injected into the body are dead or weakened, they can create immunity without causing the disease. The material injected into the body is called a vaccine.
The term vaccination originally referred to immunization against smallpox because the procedure originated when English physician Edward Jenner (1749-1823) discovered that milkmaids who had contracted the mild disease cowpox (vaccinia) were immune to smallpox. The development of a cowpox vaccine against smallpox has led to the production of vaccines against a wide range of diseases."
I was thinking about this idea while running around my golf course for my first run in preparation for the Eugene Marathon in May. I thought it was Koch who developed the first vaccine, but maybe he invented pasteurization (ha-ha, I joke!)
I went to breakfast with an old friend and he was saying that after the Marine Corps Marathon, he really thought he had done serious damage. Which is funny because that's always how I felt after my big races and that's why I kept running to doctors. "Doc, it hurts when I do this!" "Don't do that." This is pretty much how every appointment went until I realized that given enough time, most people's bodies will heal completely from the most mundane and profound traumas-and doctors know this good and darn well-but still charge you $200 just to sit in their lobby.
Once healed, the next time you do "that," it should either hurt less or take less time to heal (or god willing, both) and hopefully you will see improved times on top of that. It's like building callouses. Go take your soft hands and dig a giant ditch without gloves. Your hands will be bloody, but no permanent damage will be done. That's how I've come to look at my precious bones and joints. If it keeps hurting, it's time to hang it up. If it heals, do it again. Faster.
Several years ago I was a traveling salesman. I would routinely drive 1000 miles a day and more (16 hours, that's how long it takes to drive 1000 miles-I wish I didn't have to know that). Eventually, I developed a pain in my left shoulder, presumably from the position I sat in for so long. I was thoroughly convinced that I had done permanent damage as it never seemed to go away, particularly if I kept driving like that. Eventually I failed as a traveling salesman (thank god) and stopped driving. And after one year, the pain went away and I've never had shoulder pain again. And have never driven like that again, either.
As I continued my run, the thought progressed a little further. People on chemo feel horrible, probably feel like they're dying or would like to die. But eventually, the cancer is defeated, the body heals and you're back to much better if not good/better than new. This is pretty much how I view marathons and long distance triathlons. It hurts really, really bad. But you do heal. And while I don't totally buy this, the conventional wisdom is that the body doesn't remember pain. I personally remember pain in three part harmony-and yet still I continue.
The body is infinitely resilient, far more so than I think most people believe, but you do have to let it heal completely for it to forgive you for what you've done to it.
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