But I am running again. And know I am and will for awhile now.
I am on the cusp of my 48th birthday.
My father died at age 48. If I follow any of his trajectory I will live until September 1, 2015. If I follow my own, it will be well past that...I hope.
I have thought and will think a lot about this likely until the year is up.
I have also been in a place where the old ways aren't working anymore. So I have tried to reach back to those things that have fed me at one time or another in my life. As an only child, the outdoors, my dog, and books kept me sane. So I've begun practices that incorporate these same things.
In August, I started a trail racing program. 12 weeks of Saturday morning runs and Tuesday night hills. All for some reason that I am only now realizing.
I ran in high school. Track and cross country. I enjoyed it but can't say I loved it. It was a sport I could do. I was never fast but my mother declared I could outlast anyone. With the proper mix of stubbornness and perfectionism, I managed well.
The first Saturday was a little intimidating.. Several folks were training for ultra runs and distances that required metric conversions. I didn't know anyone. And it was hot. At 47, I produce enough heat on my own thank you. However, as I began to run --for a time, not a distance-- I forgot all of that. I was in the woods where I love to be., doing something I enjoyed for the most part. We were "given" permission to hike,walk, or whatever we needed to do to make the run good for us. Good for ME.
Permission to do something for me.
That's what I needed at that time and in that space. I'm not good at that part. And I so much needed that. I spent the downhill part of the trail flying almost out of control and feeling like I was 8 again. It had been a long time since I had that much fun.
I was hooked.
Fast forward to today. A damp Sunday with 30-40 folks, many of whom I had spent those 12 weeks. I have run 5ks and a 10k. The last 5k was great. The 10k was close to awful. Six miles still feels long to me. An hour plus on my feet is still a challenge. But I knew I would get it done.
We started the first mile waaaaaay too fast. Even for my best 5k it was terribly fast. And I was in the back! I took a water break. Stopped totally (permission remember?) and reset myself. The next 5 miles were steady, sometimes solitary, and comfortable.
My friend Kim and I finished together. We spent most of our training working hard with what we have. It was good to be there. My other friends had finished. Some folks got lost in the woods. Lyndsey hugged me knowing what this meant.
I don't pretend to think I will ever win a race or even finish topsin my age group. For me at this time, it's something to be proud of and know I accomplished something, I've learned a lot about myself. I've needed this in more ways than I knew.
Sometimes those things we leave behind, can be reused in new ways. The joy of childhood pursuits are now lessons of comfort and care for the child carried in me.
And that's just fine with me.
