Thursday, January 22, 2009

Growing. Older.

I realized yesterday that I am not comfortable with the thought of growing older. I have no problem being the age I am; I don't even mind thinking about sticking a 1 behind that 3 in less than 2 months. What I do mind, apparently, is the thought of the inevitable decline of our bodies as we age.
I had this revelation as I was reading my February edition of Runner's World magazine. They've dedicated a number of pages to a feature called "Age Matters." I've just skimmed the articles, but the news that bones start losing their density, muscle mass declines, recovery rates increase, weight gain is almost inevitable, and your heart starts beating slower pretty much discouraged further reading. I know there is some good news in there somewhere, but for some stubborn reason I find myself unable to sit down and read the whole series of articles.
I've only been a runner for a couple of years, and I'm sad to think that I have only 4 or 5 years left to run my fastest race before age becomes more of a issue.

However. I do not know what the next 5 years, or even tomorrow, may bring. What I do know is that today I can run. So I will do my best, because I can.

(aside: Sometimes it's good to express doubts and worries, because in the simple black and white letters, lining up all orderly on my page, things make more sense than when they're swirling thoughts, all disorderly and panicked. This is one of those times.)

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