“Dave, buddy, you gotta get those knees up.”

The ambitious freshmen (ambitious because this was a tempo run and he was chasing varsity) looked exhausted. He had been running fast, and his terrible form was beginning to tax him. He didn’t bend his knees, like he was sweeping the sidewalk with his feet.

He smiled bashfully and did as he was told. Meanwhile, one of my cheekier seniors turned to me with a knowing look. He appreciated the irony of the situation.

“Do as I say, not as I do,” I added, mostly for the senior’s benefit. I, too, had grasped the irony of my criticisms.

I have heard several times that I run with a jogger’s form– in slow motion. I take small, strangely energy-efficient steps like Cliff Young. And, while I don’t sweep my feet like brooms, I don’t lift my knees as high as good form dictates.

Dave managed to finish the workout with varsity– for the first time ever. His form improved briefly, and then he returned to sweeping duty. I didn’t bother to correct him the second time. form, after all, isn’t everything.