How It Is

This post, unlike my last one, is not a whine and jeez session about other people. This one's about me and what's been going on in my life and my running life (often I find the two feel pretty much the same).

I am in an unsettled period right now. I feel a strong urge to spend a lot of time alone--I described it to Z as "me time"--and yet when I get it I am lethargic and scattered. I am in a struggle with aging. Not very original, but for me it is neither a familiar nor a comfortable state. I'm proud to be reasonably fit and want to stay that way, so I long to do the extended runs and lengthy races that I have always loved. But I have all sorts of hip / glute / flexor issues that give me literal pause when I try to train long. Still, I get out there and run / walk when I can.

Saturday I was truly psyched to do a run on the Bay Bridge on Sunday. It is one of my favorite places to run, plus I had been feeling pretty strong all week. Sunday morning I awoke early to eat and get ready to run but was immediately pulled up short by what felt like a lava cauldron in my belly. No-o-o-. Yes? Well, what the! Denial didn't work--my gut bubbled away. Anger didn't help--blurp, blurp, answered my system.

So I stayed home. I spent some time watching the A's gift wrap and hand over the final game in their series with the Giants. Argh. Argh. I ate some cereal, a couple of bananas, and a PB & J on a bagel. Also, I slept a lot, off and on for probably six or seven hours. The fatigue was almost worse than the internal magma--in my fogged-out brain I realized that the normal me rarely sits still for more that ten minutes at a stretch, unless I'm reading, writing, or eating. But I could hardly move; I loafed all day and was in bed by 8:30 pm--slept until 5:30 this morning.

When I awoke I felt better but not entirely well. Of course, I jumped right into berating myself for being so wimpy. Then I stopped and said, treat yourself at least as well as you would a friend. So I went for a walk in the 7 am sunshine and snapped a few pictures along the way. (Did I tell you that my camera phone was not working for almost a week? I missed it terribly--almost felt like one of my senses had stopped working. Seeing photographically has become second nature to me. Yesterday Verizon tech support saved the day--the camera lives again.)

On my walk I realized that fretting over getting old, over being ill, over these and many other aggravations, is an exertion of the soul that bears no reward. The good times are available if I can recognize them, be they merely the way a tree shadow looks as it spills over lawn and sidewalk, or the way the morning sun shoots through some branches and sparks hot light on a small metal structure.
 
Things seem so complicated. They are--in my head, that is. Maybe when I get into the fresh air and move my arms and legs, things get simpler. Seems like a theory worth testing extensively!