As much fun as I had during my race sequence this spring setting PWs (Personal Worsts) by a wide margin at nearly every distance, including my first DNF in almost 250 races, I do believe I’ve begun to strengthen the infrastructure and regain the rhythm enough to begin to reverse that trend. Time to leave those PWs behind—may they stand forever—and come back as, not the runner I once was, but the runner I can still be.
Never did my 2022 running wrap because there’s wasn’t much of anything to wrap. At the risk of repeating myself from the near sudden end of Soft Reboot coming out of the spectacular 2019 running season, 2020’s The Year of Unrunning, and 2021’s Running Resurrection: inactivity during the pandemic and the resulting injuries broke me. My body. My spirit. My body again. And again. Fought it best I could yet not enough, described it and what I would do about it and what I wanted for myself coming out of it, and all of it is still true.
There is nothing more to say, looking back, running backwards from that last good race in California, to Chicago. There’s power in metaphor: I’m 66 now and Route 66 is the only road open to me, the only road forward, the only road home. Not sure how much time I have left, so I might as well take it slow and enjoy it, make sure I’m still moving, make sure I keep showing up.
There are still always going to be roadblocks of course. A (last?) bout of COVID. Meds askew. Wildfires. I’m only getting to this today because even now that the smoke has cleared a bit, it’s 90 degrees outside and too hot for old guys to run.
The foundation of the turnaround is acknowledgement that my problems were of my own making. That my knee hurt because I wasn’t running. That my back hurt because I wasn’t working out. That other problems had root causes in lack of hydration, poor nutrition. The shoulder that’s shorter than the other by an inch because of all those years carrying heavy computer bags and luggage? Fix it. Fix everything, fix all of it.
Some things are worth bringing back.
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- Inspiration from local heroes: Erika, Callie and Tom; my indomitable wife.
- Inspirational and informational readings from those far away: Dicharry, Benzie, Kara, Born to Run 2.
Some new/old mechanics:
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- A sustainable cadence of strength, mobility, stability, with regular and planned pilates, TRX and yoga taking precedence over running.
- New shoe rotation, gradually working my way back to basics to re-strengthen and feel the world through my feet: less cushioning, lower stack heights, lower drops, firmer ride, more variation. Proprioception is key!
- Chia seeds.
Some very personal things:
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- Acknowledging loss, yes. Youth. Speed. Friends. Time.
- Rediscovering joy. Energy. Passion, but passion with tempered perspective.
- Strength from my crew: little do they know how much energy I draw from them, how much they help keep me going, especially now that I’ve been able to be there more often.
And finally, a new commitment to just run through it. Stop being so careful. Stop acting so…broken. So…old. A choice to leave the last and the best of me streaked on the sidewalk and the asphalt and the trail. Sweat and tears and all that. Even bleed a little. Expose the heart. Some days all I’ve got left is heart.
Run Free. Breathe Deep. Finish Strong. I’ve known for a while I’m in the Finish Strong phase, with much too much risk that it was just “finish.” Too young for that. May not end up being the 94 year old running his 25th marathon, but…
Maybe this isn’t just Route 66. Maybe it’s the October Road of my life. In the broader expanse of my running career, this is like mile 23 of a marathon… when looking all around me I see others in various degrees of trouble and pain, the moment when I could easily shut down by choice or by my body flat giving out…and instead, I choose to take, we all choose to take, whatever it is we’ve been carrying on our shoulders all this time, we take it and gently lay it on the side of the road and head off for the finish line. This is my Route 66 now, my October Road, my long road home. And I’m very grateful I still have it in front of me.
As always I will close this with my mantra because it is always worth telling myself over and over and over again right until the end:
There may be younger runners. And there may be faster runners. But every once in a while, on a warm summer evening into the setting sun, there is no more magnificent runner, than me.