Afleveringen
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The calendar has changed, and my sixty-first birthday is in the rearview mirror, and another year has slid by. The original challenge of working to make a difference has been replaced with trying to find small improvements in my surgically repaired left knee. In many ways, this was the most fitting way for this journey to end, and I find myself in the most familiar of places, starting over. And, in a way that can be difficult to understand, even for myself, I relish these moments even as they frustrate me.
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The problem with living with a trained medical professional who spent much of her career in orthopedics is that she can read the results of your MRI. Darkness had set in when she pulled up my files online and began reviewing the results. I sat quietly, reading a book, pretending that I wasn’t interested, waiting for the diagnosis.
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Zijn er afleveringen die ontbreken?
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For the first time in several months, I know what the next couple of weeks will bring.
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I know how to manage my current situation. Running a good time is off the table. I can’t train the way that I want to. I need to shut down for two weeks, get back on the road for a week, and then shut down for another week before the race. My time will suffer, but if I can slow down and maintain discipline, it still could be a successful day.
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We are always on a schedule, evaluating meals and watching the weather. Last weekend I went to the extreme and slipped in a run between tornado watches. We have to carve out time, and that doesn’t happen without support from whoever you are sharing life with.
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I proclaimed victory far too early. Forty years of never quitting regardless of how sick it left me wasn’t overcome by one day of common sense. Unfortunately, my moment of achieving wisdom was little more than an aberration, and I am still the same person that I have always been.
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As I run, there is plenty of time during a five-mile trek, and I found myself reflecting. More specifically, reflecting on the fifteen-year-old version of myself in the seventies.
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It was a big week. At least it was a big week in the way that I measure things.
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How I approached that day of loading a rented van and racing to make as many trips as possible would make no sense to anyone that didn't run, or for that matter, anyone who was a casual runner. However, as I debated whether to reveal myself, I realized that it would make perfect sense to any life-long runner. So, with some reluctance - my notes from that last day at the River House.
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It was one of those days when I had to run. Not because of what was on the schedule or some deep inner need, but rather what was on Mother Nature's schedule.
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We have spent the last eight years living in the heart of the city, and of all of the places that we have called home, this has been my favorite. Regardless, I now find myself preparing for the next stage of life back in suburbia, which I admit has left me with some trepidation.
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We took an unexpected break after some technical difficulties, but now we are back. Winter is here, and am I getting soft? I take some time to remember my worst running injuries.
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As we stumble through life, I find that the most humorous moments that manage to stand the test of time are not funny at all when they are playing out in real-time. Much more frequently, they are better described as painful when they are actually unfolding.
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I have always believed that when you find yourself in a situation that you don't like, the starting point is asking yourself what you did to create that reality. It can be hard to admit, but the most common contributor to our problems is ourselves, which is why I knew that sitting on an icepack with a space heater running was directly related to a decision that I had made months earlier.
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I have been looking forward to this morning for two years. Even before deciding to take on this year-long project, this race had a special significance, which is unusual because races are generally on my schedule primarily to keep me motivated. And, despite the pandemic, it stubbornly remained on the calendar. Small block starting times, limited participants, masks until being released, and instructions to go straight to your vehicle after crossing the finishing line were the rules of the day. In a year when my racing schedule had evaporated, the organizers had managed to pull off the one event that I was fixated on.
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Still in the Race is a podcast about running through the autumn of life, except for when it's not. It's for those looking for a unique perspective on life from someone entirely unqualified to offer perspective.
