The Orange Training Log Tales: Friday

On Friday, after a particularly rough tempo (in which nobody hit the splits they wanted to hit), my coach told us this story:

OWL FLIES SCORPION ACROSS THE RIVER

On Friday, Owl was hanging out by the fast-flowing river with Tortoise, watching the current carry fallen leaves. Along came Scorpion, wondering if anyone could take him across the water.

“I’ve heard there’s good hunting across the way,” he explained, “and I’d gladly share half my haul if you were kind enough to carry me.”

“Sorry Scorpion,” Tortoise said “I’ve eaten enough today, and have to stay in the sun to warm up a bit.”
“Understandable, understandable,” Scorpion replied.
“I can take y…” Owl started to say, before Tortoise quickly took him aside.
“Don’t do it,” Tortoise told Owl. “You’ll get halfway across before Scorpion will try to sting you. He tried it with me last time I ferried him across the river. We only made it across safely because my shell protected me. Otherwise,” he warned, “we would have both drowned.”
“Why would Scorpion try to hurt someone trying to help him?” Owl asked.
“He can’t help it,” Tortoise explained, “It’s just his nature.”

“That’s crazy,” Owl thought, “There’s not way anyone can be so stupid. Hey Scorpion!” He cried “I can take you!” Owl was awful hungry, after all. Tortoise just shook him head.
“Sounds good!” Scorpion said, “Let’s go! You won’t be sorry!”
“Before we go,” Owl cautioned, “You have to promise you won’t sting me.”
“Why would I sting you?” Scorpion asked, “Aren’t you doing me a favor? If I stung you we’d both drown!”
“Tortoise told me that it’s just your nature,” Owl said. “I just wanted to make sure.”

“Understandable, understandable,” Scorpion said.
So Owl took Scorpion upon his back and flew across the river. Halfway through, he felt a sharp, painful prick beneath his feathers.
“What was that?!” he cried.
“Nothing, I didn’t see anything,” Scorpion said. Soon though, Owl felt faint and weak as Scorpion’s venom flowed through his veins. 

“Scorpion! You stung me!” Owl cried.

“Yup…” Scorpion admitted. Owl began to descend jerkily as his wings started to lock up.
“Why would you do that?” Owl asked sleepily as he crashed into the water.
“Sorry,” Scorpion said “It’s just my natu…” and they both hit the river and fell beneath the waves.
…

…

…

Owl awoke in a panic and stiffly fought his way to the surface, hacking and coughing on river-water. With sore limbs he fought the current, clawing his body to shore. Soggy and half-drowned, he wondered how anyone could give into their nature even at the compromise of their survival instinct. 

This one confused us a bit. Usually the morals were pretty clear-cut— give in to sacrifice, work hard, enjoy it, be consistent, but this seemed to be advocating the metaphorical equivalent of elbowing your teammates, or letting them elbow you. 

Finally, I asked my coach what he meant, and what our workout was supposed to be that day.
“Just sit down and rest!” He barked. “Go home! Take a day off! You have to race tomorrow.” 

But what about the larger goal? I asked, what about training through it for the bigger races, what about putting in the work…
“Stop!” He barked again. “That’s your scorpion right there. Work for the sake of work. The distance runner’s plight, the tragic burden. Ignore your nature and just rest,” he demanded.
So we did. We had to race the next day, after all. Why sabotage that?