It started like so many others. Four of us in Mike's car heading to "The Asphalt Treadmill", also known as the Monon Trail*.
And as usual, I was the slowest out of the gate, easing into the run, letting the muscles and connective tissue gain some heat and loosen up.
But it wasn't long before I was pulling the young guys.
I felt strong and fluid and... don't tell anyone... I felt fast.
I'm not kidding myself... I wasn't the fastest. Mark Va-Gee-Gee had us all covered. But when he waited for us at the turn-around, I hung with him on the return.
I wasn't blasting any records or turning the heads of big league scouts, but I was moving... well. For the first time in weeks, I felt like I was running the way I should be running. I wasn't bound up. I wasn't sore. I wasn't nursing this or favoring that. I was motoring, the way I used to.
And with a mile to go... I eased up. I let Mark and Wulf go. I let Mike catch me, and even leave me with a few hundred yards to go.
Sure, I could have hung with those guys. A year ago I would have. I think I'm a little smarter now. At least more sensible.
I whoa'd up because it's been a looong time coming, that good feeling, that easy, powerful stride. I can enjoy being well, but I also need to respect my body, and not over do it. I'd had my fun, and I want to have a lot more fun ahead.
There's a time to let yourself go, to see what you've got. And when you see what you've got, enjoy it, but don't reach for more.
There's no need to reach for more.
More will come to you, with diligence and patience.
Good running,
Doug
* I kid the Monon. It's a great resource and we are lucky to have it. Would be better with a little rolling terrain, a few more turns, and a wood chip surface, but still... lucky to have it.
Numbers: 5 miles on asphalt.
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