Just Getting Old

The jury's in. I"m just getting old.

Yesterday, I wrote about, among other things, a good and a bad run this week, trying to decide how much of the bad run was cancer/chemo related. (Notice how whenever something good happens, you don't say, "I wonder if this is because of my cancer or treatment." And, I would bet, that in some cases, you could probably trace the roots of the good back. But that's a can of worms for a future post.)

After this morning's run with my friend -- easily my favorite part of the week -- I've decided that the only thing to blame for yesterday's slow run is my fitness level. This morning's run wasn't super fast.  But it was faster than yesterday, and as always, we talked throughout the run.

Having run three marathons in my life, I always assume that I should be able to jump back into a running rhythm as if I'd never stopped. But my last marathon was a full three years ago. And although I've continued to run casually since then, due to winter weather, schedules, aging, and, oh yeah, chemo, it's been hard to keep to a steady running schedule these past six months.

I sometimes forget that when I started training for the last marathon, I ran 2 miles a day 4-5 days a week for two weeks before I moved up to running 3 miles a day 4-5 days a week. And then, I moved up to 4 miles, etc., etc. It was a slow and patient progression -- which was difficult for a somewhat impatient person. With treatment over, I think I assumed that I could just flick a switch and return to pre-treatment life, running and all.

Not so fast.

I'll have to build my running base week by week, mile by mile -- maybe even a slower build-up than three years ago (although I have no aspirations to run another marathon... a half marathon? maybe in October.) And when I get up to running 15-20 miles a week, I'll look back at this week and be glad for the progress. Until then, I'll take pleasure in the fact that four Sundays ago, I couldn't have even managed to sit and watch my boys play soccer. Progress.