A few weeks ago, my 12-year-oldās cross country coach sent us an email with a training schedule, the running heāll need to do to be ready when school starts back up in August.
The plan starts small, with runs of five minutes, ten minutes, fifteen minutes, and the like. It includes some strength exercises too, like planks and push-ups. Nothing too hard, nothing too demanding.
Itās designed for someone starting at zero, essentially, so that by the time school starts they wonāt still be at zero. And it gets slightly more challenging with each week, so the students can ease into the fall like a plane heading down the runway, just starting to pull its nose into the air.
To be honest, this plan easily could have been meant for me.
My own running and exercise ā while not falling all the way to zero ā has certainly not been where it once was. Not where it needs to be, not where it ought to be. There are (good!) reasons for that, but nonetheless ā we are where we are.
Even though Iāve run here and there, I feel like Iām starting from scratch. Like Iāve gone all the way back to the beginning. Which, maybe isā¦ okay?
Ever since I was a kid, Iāve never really felt like the year started in January. To me, the year begins when we go back to school, or back to college for the fall semester. When those first leaves turn red, orange and brown, thatās always felt like the true beginning of the year to me.
I think thatās why summer always feels to me like the conclusion of something ā and, once you hit about the point where we are now in July, things start turning again. Toward the fall, toward a new start.
Itās been a couple of weeks since we last connected, I know, and Iāve had lots of thoughts. Things have been churning in the back of my mind, as Iām sure they have for you too.
I want to re-dedicate myself to my health and fitness; especially after the beach vacation Iāve just been on, when I let myself be lazy and eatā¦ whatever I wanted! (It was glorious, by the way!) That can only last so long, though. Sooner or later, we have to get back on the path.
One thing thatās never far from my mind is, Iām midway through my 55th year. I may have a little way left to go in my life, I may have a long way to go ā or maybe even a really long way. (My hope, of course, is for the latter.)
But thereās something inescapable about being at roughly the half-way point of life: you keep thinking, āwhat comes next?ā Especially once your children get older, or at least when they arenāt little anymore.
In his stand-up act years ago, Jerry Seinfeld has a great bit about what itās like to be a kid:
When youāre little, your life is up. The future is up. Everything you want is up.
āWait up! Hold up! Shut up! Mom, Iāll clean up! Just let me stayā¦up!ā1
That captures it so well, doesnāt it? When weāre young, weāre looking up, weāre looking forward, ahead to the adventure. Everything is about taking the next step up the ladder.
Now, though, I feel differently. I donāt know whatās next, but Iām not sure itās up, necessarily. Is the right aim to stay where I am? To simply keep doing what Iām doing? Or is it to try to move forward, to break new ground?
Right now, I honestly donāt know. And maybe itās okay not to have an answer, at least for the time being. But I do feel a stirring, for an answer I hope will come into view.
In the meantime, Iām going to put one foot in front of the other as I return to running ā which wonāt be easy, I know! But at least I have good company, all of you who get out there and do this too.
Iāll leave you with my favorite photo I took last week, a boat that had been converted into a Tiki bar, floating on a creek headed out to the Atlantic.
Keep in touch, and let me know how your running/life is going.
Your friend,
ā Terrell
āParents, of course, are just the opposite. Everything is down. āCalm down. Slow down. Come down here. Sit down. Put thatā¦ down!āā