Getting old is just no fun

Saturday I went with the Goose for the opening run for training for the 2006 Portland Marathon. It was both a short and a slow run. When I do 3 miles alone I typically run a very hilly course leading away from the apartment. I deliberately run a very slow pace because my hope is to encourage her by running the marathon with her which means slowing my pace to meet hers. Still, I clock in at right about 39 minutes. It is pretty consistent. Seldom less than 38 or more than 40 and almost always right at 39. Like Nurmi I am.
On flat ground I am much, much faster...and less consistent. I can do anywhere from an 8 to a ten minute mile...partially because it is so much easier without the hills and partially because I just can't hold myself back on the flats.
Well, Saturday we ran a completely flat course and I kept to her pace which is a rapid shuffling walk for me or an incredibly soft jog. Sadly, this is much, much harder on me than my normal pace. So I started feeling a little sore. Then Sunday afternoon we had our first softball practice.
Now, some injuries make sense. I know how and why I snapped the tendon a couple years ago. It made sense. I know why my arm is sore. That makes sense also. What I cannot figure out is why my tailbone is so deeply bruised that is actually physically hurts to stand up. I think the calendar flipping pulled a muscle or something. Yeah, that line leaves open a lot of butt-muscle jokes, but being the classy individual I am Ichoose not to go there.
And what I really want to know is why I can't pick up a USEFUL injury? You know, like...eye strain that means all I am allowed to do for a week is watch movies or biting my tongue so all I can eat is pudding and cake...those would be injuries worth having. But making it hard to sit and stand up? How can I get any mileage out of that? I am sad here...getting old just isn't all it is cracked up to be.