You have really been kind. I have been having my own brand of grief reaction to my friend's death. Yesterday I wanted to lay in bed and pull the covers over my head and just stay there all day. Instead I went out and ran 8 miles.
The thing is, I did not feel better after running. I did not want to run, and I did not get that elation after a couple of miles that makes you want to keep going - the way I used to. And the thing was - the day before when I was not running because I felt the wind was out of my sails after hearing the bad news - I knew that a year or two ago, running would have been the first thing I wanted to do. It helped me cope.
The other thing is - I think my body has reached the maximum benefit from running. I am going to be 57 years old on December 15. I thought that running would help keep old age from my doorstep, but right now I think I was wrong.
I started running when I was in my late 20s and a young mother. It was my way of getting my body back, and getting some alone time. I kept running into my 30s. I never ran a race until 1987 - I was 35 years old. It was the Bolder Boulder - which is an awesome way to start racing. But I still smoked. I ran that first race with a cigarette tucked into the tiny pocket in my running shorts. My cute little pink running shorts. I lit up after I crossed the finish line.
I stopped smoking when I was 38 - and gained 40 lbs., and started smoking again for 6 months - and did not lose the 40 lbs. I stopped again when I was 39. And have not had a cigarette again. I weighed too much to run as a non-smoker, so I started race-walking. I lost most of the weight, but I kept a bit of that weight on me all these years. I walked a 12 minute mile at that time.
In 2003, I was engaged to be married. I was pretty overweight again...happiness seems to do that to me. On August 19, 2003, it became obvious to me that I could not marry this man and we broke up. I thought I was going to die. Two days after the break up, I went out and tried to run. I knew that running could save my life. I would walk one mile up a hill from my house. When I got to the top, I would turn around and run for 5 minutes. I was out of breath and could do no more than that.
I did that for a couple of weeks. Then I made it 10 minutes. A few weeks later, I ran a mile. After a month or so, I was able to run a mile and a half. I started losing weight. I started feeling good. I fit into a size I hadn't been in for a very long time. My legs were hard. My butt was like a rock. I stayed at a mile and a half a couple of times a week for a while. I was full of confidence. I registered for a triathlon!!!
I started serious swimming at the pool. I could not swim one length of the pool using the crawl stroke. But I kept trying. After a while I could crawl 2 lengths, and then breast stroke, and then back stroke. It took a few months, but I got up to a half mile non-stop of the crawl stroke. It took about a half-hour.
Biking was always my favorite, so I just spent more time trying to go faster. I still couldn't run 3 miles, but I figured I could walk in the race.
I participated in my first triathlon at the age of 52. I felt like a million bucks. It was one of the most wonderful things that ever happened to me.
On New Years Day 2007, I told a friend I was going to run a half-marathon that year. I don't know where that came from. But I trained and I ran my first half-marathon in May. It was wonderful. I knew I was slow, but I felt like a million bucks. I felt like I had found my sport. Slow, long-distance running. And I am not being humble when I say slow. I mean 14+ minute miles. I ran another half in October 2007.
At a Christmas party last year, a friend convinced me that if I could run a half, I could run a whole. I decided to do it in Alaska. I registered for the Mayor's Marathon... June 21... Summer Solstice. How cool is that. I got up to one 15 mile training run. Two weeks after I used another half-marathon as a training run. I came in dead last in that half. Ironically, it was my best half-marathon time ever. But it was a field of 800 athletes, without the "feel-good" peeps that offend some runners. I was the only "feel-gooder" at that race, and it wasn't feeling too good, let me tell you. I did enjoy it though.
I went out for a 17 mile run one Sunday morning two weeks after my 15 miler, and after 5 miles decided that I did not want to pay the price to train for a marathon. I knew I could train for a half-marathon without ruining my life, so I decided to run a half in Anchorage. The question I asked myself that day was "do I want to run with joy, or do I want to run with grim determination?" The answer was joy.
That was my last race. (well, aside from my triathlon in August - which I still consider a pleasure, not a chore) I am registered for the P.F. Chang's half on January 18. I know I can pull 13.1 out of this old body, but I am not loving it. I am not waking up in the morning wanting to run. I am not trying to figure out how to squeeze in a few more miles to get up to a total for the week or month, the way I used to.
My body doesn't feel like a jock's anymore. It feels old. I am no longer noticing the rock hard muscles, but the flabby skin. Not fat, mind you, skin. It happens when you age. I am pushing 60 and it is happening.
I recently got in touch with one of my high school acquaintances. She sent me pictures of a group of them at a restaurant. The class of '69. Well, I hate to tell you - they are old ladies. chubby old ladies. I am no stick figure - I wear a size 12, but I am not wearing huge shirts that are not covering my huge belly. I have my rolls and my bulges, but I do not look like my classmates. I know that is because of running.
I don't even think I expect anyone to read this. I am just facing a decision point I guess. I wish I had other old folks to talk it over with. Most of you are young and energetic and happy to be running. I know what that is like. It is GREAT. I am just not there right now and I am pretty sure that time has passed.
I will put in my training runs this week. I will consider that it is a shock to find out a friend has died. I am probably more upset than I am even admitting. I will not make any decisions this week. I will definitely run P.F. Chang's - and I am really looking forward to meeting some of you.
Since I have already written a book, I will add this little story.
I just cancelled my land line service. I use my cell phone for everything, so there is no sense in paying $52. a month for something I don't use. Today was the last day my land line was on, so I wanted to listen to the voice mails I have saved. Like from my granddaughter's first day of pre-school, etc. Tucked in there was a voice mail from the man who died last week. I was not expecting that. I really wasn't expecting to hear what it said. I have been feeling so bad about our last conversation and wishing I had been a better friend to him. So, this morning, I got to hear a message he left for me in May. It said "Thank you for your friendship. You have been a really good friend to me. There are so many things I love about you. Thank you." I felt like he reached out to me today to tell me that it is OK.
OK enough out of me! Thanks for reading if you have read this much!
join me, or I couldn't have done it. It is just plain scary to be out on trails in the dark! I don't care how good your head lamp is. We could hear critters rustling in the bushes along the trail. And the thing we didn't know? We did not know that we had to cross a river twice ! through water up to our knees! In the dark! HOLY CRAP! 
y first bike ride of the season. I decided to ride my bike to work to:
