Most of my running career, I’ve planned a year or so in advance: time goals, training blocks, race schedules, trips. Eventually what were once fast race 5k years got blended with slower half marathon and marathon years. Was always enough to keep me going to the next thing, but, except for marathons, training was inconsistent and haphazard depending on what was coming up. And there’s a price for all the whipsawing.
The last few years of medical conditions and chronic injuries have played also havoc with that approach, and I found myself in a constant panic of trying to catch up on distance progressions and make up for lost time and force myself to build to races I had no business doing, which resulted in a virtuous cycle of undertraining and pain and disappointment. I don’t have the focus or the discipline or the natural athletic talent my wife Mary has, and it’s been hard keeping up without the right tools. This spring, a too-ambitious, too-soon schedule of distance races collapsed under its own weight and questionable motivation and a shaky back. Running was not fun any more.
So I took a breath and went back to basics, as if I was a brand new runner. All the way back to the most basic of basics. Conditioning over running, attention to strengthening QLs, hip flexors and medial glutes above all (my weak points apparently). Run-walking at its most elementary level (30/30 program to start) without advancing too quickly for any reason. Sure, pin on a number every once in a while, but do your scheduled workout even if you’re in the back. Don’t worry about it. No one cares. You should only care that you’re still out there.
And it’s working. Slow but sure progress, not only for my body but for my mind. Not only is my back better, not only do I appreciate the progress, but my head is getting back on straight too, and I’m enjoying the sport again without worrying whether I can finish what I started on any given day. Maybe I’ll even try to get rid of the noticeable shoulder drop and hip collapse from all those years of carrying around computers and luggage. Anyway, there is light.
There’s also the realization that there may not be much time left, and that maybe there’s only one last competitive cycle available to me, that most of the people I’ve competed against over the years have all sat down already. And that’s what I’ve been laying out recently, the competitive arc that takes me through the next five years towards the end, with the hope that the end never really comes.
So, this year, 2025, it’s only about recovering and being able to get back to running consistently and comfortably, short distances only. Regular strength, stretching, tai chi, qigong, yoga. No distances past 10k. Some speedwork mostly as strides. I have a few 5k races here and there through the end of the year to keep it honest, although I’m really only out there to have fun with the pack.
Next year, 2026, is about gradually improving performance over a sustained schedule of 5k and 10k races, nothing longer. Again, mostly just being out there, but allowing myself a couple of target races towards the back half of the year. Let’s get one full solid year in before anything else.
2027 will be a new age group for me (yay seventies), and yeah, I’ll be going for as much hardware as I can. There will still be some cycles, with A, B and C races, with even some of the C races specifically chosen to be medal-possible. I’ve gotten 44 age group awards over the years, and would very much like to get that to 50. Will probably be the last year of running towards the front for me.
And after that, a slow retreat. 2028 looks like it could be a farewell to some of my usual suspect races, especially the Chicago races. Maybe there’s a progression where I could run my last Shamrock Shuffle into the Chicago Spring 10k, my 10th in-person Soldier Field 10 into Chicago 13.1 for my 30th half marathon. I have a difficult history with Chicago 13.1 and feel like I need to make some peace with it. There will be quite a bit of sadness with this year, saying goodbye to favorites, to anchors on the schedule. That’s just reality, and in that reality, even more peace and gratitude.
By 2029 I’ll likely be back to local races around me, just 5ks. I’ll be that old guy chatting up the new runners at the start line, pulling them up towards the finish line. No real plans beyond here except to keep moving as long as possible, racing butterflies and bunnies through the forest preserves and all that.
Along the way I’ll want to fill in some of the missing links of my running resume, some of the shorter iconic races I haven’t yet done, like Peachtree, Wharf to Wharf, Beach to Beacon, Crescent City Classic, maybe Cherry Blossom Run.
This arc will seal 30 years of running and 25 years of competition and if I make it that far, it will have been great; and if I don’t, it still will have been great. We don’t know what will be our last race or our last run. In the realization that there’s an expiration date, it’s important to know that the day will come sooner or later, but with some care, it doesn’t have to be today. That’s my plan and I’m sticking to it.
When that day does finally come, I’ll be glad to say one last time, closing as I always do, with this:
There may be younger runners. And there may be faster runners. But every once in a while, into the setting sun on a warm summer’s night, there is no more magnificent runner, than me.
Thank you to anyone who has read this far, and who will be sharing the road or following along via the inevitable overshares on social media in my last running years. See you out there, and bless you all.