On my run this afternoon, I actually felt... good.
I haven't really felt good running for a while. It's bad that it feels weird to feel good. It's welcome all the same.
A couple days ago my Stretching Professional (aka Mistress of Pretzel-Twisting Pain) decided that my progress wasn't actually progressing, so she broke out a can of Whoop-Ass brand torture. Releasing fascia is not for the weak, or anyone who shrieks like a frightened little girl when elbows are used to loosen up the lumpy bits. She inflicted it on me anyway.
But, two days later, here I am, cautiously optimistic.
And cautiously cautious. I've been fooled before. I've felt "good", which was really just a slight upgrade from "near death", and thought that was a green light to kick in the afterburners, which of course put me back a couple steps, back to "nearer to death".
Today, things felt good. No twinges. No hitches. Just smooth goin'.
I was steady. Not slow, but not fast either.
Thing is, there's nothing like feeing good to make you want to go fast, especially when you haven't gone fast in a long time.
And man, do I want to go fast. I don't like dragging behind a group whose collective asses, just a few months ago, I could dust.
I want to be fast, again. Not for the ego boost of beating my buddies. Just to know that I my body is strong and durable and fast. Right now it's none of those.
But, as Jayne said "If wishes were horses, we'd all be eating steak."
“A man walks down the street in that hat, people know he’s not afraid of anything.”
I can be fast again, but not today. And not tomorrow. Maybe not this summer. And certainly not if I do something stupid like try to act like I'm fast now.
We are who we are. And we are at the exact place in our life where we are supposed to be. Forcing ourselves to be something, or someone, or somewhere else never goes well.
Change, positive, real change, takes patience, and practice, and work, and commitment. You can't wish yourself into shape, physical or otherwise.
So let those boys run out in front. You just keep working on your own stuff. And one day soon, they'll be squinting, trying to find you off in the distance.