Running

Running at Sunset by Photos8.com, originally uploaded by Photos8.com.

Back in the day I was a lot more active.

I'm sure that's the call that many of us make, as 40 either approaches or disappears in the distance. Sedentary jobs, along with schedules that don't allow the same amount of exercise as before, work in tandem to make us bigger and softer. It's a constant battle, for me not only because of age but also because of blood; I've struggled with weight and appetite my whole life. But early on I saw a way out with running.

After watching my sister try it around 1976, I got interested in running during Junior High. The PE Coach took us out to the track and made us run laps; despite the wheezing and tired muscles after half a mile, I was hooked. I suddenly felt stronger and able to focus on accomplishing things in 1/4 mile increments. I could run past my body's complaints, look to that marker on the track that indicated another lap, and give myself a pat on the back with each loop. A great match for my brain, which tends to wander wildly. I didn't know a thing about stretching or warm up, but I loved it all anyway.

Running was an activity I dabbled in for several years after that. Around 1985 I got more serious, and started running an hour each night after work. Pictures that friends have of me at the time will attest to the regimen - thin and roughly 160 pounds. This went on for a couple years until I couldn't maintain the schedule anymore, and running went on the back burner again. In 1989, I started again in earnest while going to WSU. Every other morning I would run a hilly loop twice through the campus - a total of 6 miles - and walk the same loop once inbetween the running days. If I ran every day, my knees wouldn't work well enough to even walk up stairs. That was my most active time; I weighed next to nothing and had more stamina than ever. My training was good enough to enter and finish the Bloomsday 12k race in Spokane, twice. I was never fast, but was at least consistent. Short legs aren't a good feature when you're a runner, especially if you tend to be stocky.

After 1991 my schedule trickled off, and I found less and less time to run. As I look back now I realize that I had all the time in the world and didn't know it. Maybe I just got lazy. And then I discovered Mountain Bikes in 1992, and a whole new world opened to me after that.

Lately I've had an overwhelming urge to try running again. I'm not exactly sure what spurred the idea. Maybe this: I've been following the blog of local newscaster Bill Wixey as he has been battling cancer; he is so athletic that he's managed to keep running and exercising during his chemo and radiation therapy - absolutely amazing. I think to myself if a guy like Bill can do it during treatment then why not me as an overweight middle-aged ex-runner? There's that, but it may also have something to do with the large numbers of runners I've seen on the way to work in the morning. I watch them bounding up the road, with little or no effort, muscles defined like mine haven't been...ever, and usually say silently to myself "I used the do that." But it's been a long time gone, and now I weigh in on the high side of the two-dollar mark. Not proud of it, and more importantly I'm not happy with it. I want to change "I used to do that" to "I can and have done that." Bicycling is always fun for me, and now with kids it's turning more into a family activity instead of an exercise method (and that's just fine). But running - that pursuit which held my attention as far back as the 1970s - is once again tapping on my window:

"Wanna come out and play?"

Tonight I went running for the first time in over a decade. Nothing monumental, other than it being my first time at the track in many years. Jack got a free ride in the Jogger we've used for both boys since buying it in 2002. Compared to my running protocols of the past, tonight's was small - 1.5 miles broken up in alternating 1/4 mile increments of walking and running. Didn't want to overextend myself. Even at 45 and shaped like hanging fruit, my body remembered what to do. My arms automatically went back into their familiar position with bent elbows, swinging slightly. My shoulders went back to slightly shrugged. My legs fell into their old cadence, and my feet pronated as they had back in the day. When it was all said and done, my muscles burned, my asthma kicked in slightly, but once more I felt like I had accomplished something. It was a start, a small start towards something that might help me drop weight. I'll need encouragement and a whole lotta help from God to achieve my goal of reaching 200 pounds again.

And Jack's reaction to all of this? "Daddy go faster!"

Someday Jack...someday.

Photo Credit: Running at Sunset by Photos8.com, originally uploaded by Photos8.com.