The Day I Became A Runner
I will always remember the day I became a runner. I started running in about 1983. At first I ran just twenty minutes a day. I ran in a pair of high-tip basketball shoes. I couldn’t run a quarter-mile to the stop sign at the end of the road without having to stop and catch my breath.
After a few weeks I was running a couple miles a day, six days a week. Within a month or two I set out on a run on a sunny Saturday morning and just kept going. I ran my normal out-and-back route, but instead of turning back I just kept going on around our big country block. When I came back around to the house I jumped in the car and drove the route I had just ran. I had run over six miles! I was a runner.
Since then I have run a number of races from 3 to 10 miles and a half-marathon. I have trained two summers for a marathon getting up to 20 miles in my training runs. I have never completed a marathon. For some reason I just start to lose my motivation after I get into the 15 plus-mile training runs.
That Was Then. This is Now.
When I past fifty something happened inside me. I know many people run into their old age, but lately I’ve noticed even fast running isn’t that fast anymore and what is the point, anyway. I just don’t like pushing myself anymore. A couple summers ago I unjured by ankle and distance running just doesn’t seem like a good idea. I haven’t fully recovered, but I can walk in good shoes as far as I want.
This may change in the future but for now I have down-shifted to walking and I’m glad. If you are still a runner, hat’s off to you, don’t take this as an insult. I admire you.
At the gym I will still do my sprint-eight workout on the treadmill when I can, but as much as I envy my runner friends and admire their achievements, I am now a walker. In my next post I will tell you some reasons I have converted to walking.
In my next post I will tell you some reasons for walking and share a powerful video on the incredible benefits of walking just thirty-minutes a day.