The last audio book that I listened to was called "What I Talk About When I Talk About Running" by Haruki Murakami. I honestly thought it was going to be a book by a runner, but it was actually the story of a popular fiction writer from Japan who runs in his spare time.
Like many autobiographies that I have listened to lately, I disliked the writer for a good portion of the time. But I was inspired, after a hiatus of over two years, to re-aquaint myself with the runner identity that I honestly thought at my age that I might have to leave behind.
The idea was to run, and write. This author, like a favourite fictional character named Kinsey Milhone, made a habit I have never achieved. They both ran daily, and a number of miles, and this always makes me want to do the same. Being a realist, however, I was certain I would never be able to do anything that regularly even if I didn't have to work, so I decided to take my favourite kind of number, and run every other day on the odd days beginning on July 1st.
Now that it is August, I happy to report that I have managed to run every other day for a total of 16 runs. It hasn't been easy, and it has been far from regular distances , but I have done it every single odd day. The problem seems to be, however, that I have even less time to write than ever.
At the beginning, I did what I always do when I lapse and start running again. I took a familiar route after digesting a simple breakfast, and willed my way down the hill, under the golf course, back up again to the waterfront, past the marina and the park, and back up through the streets to the nearby train station and up and around to the park that is at the bottom of my street. All told, a 6.6 km route that took 45 minutes, and the first real cardio in ages.
The next day my knee was swollen, and I had the familiar dread of the right medial meniscal tear that took me out of running for a summer, and probably affected my running for more years than I can remember.
Day 3 came and it was the second day of ward call. I opted for the first time ever to take care of my health first thing, and went in to work to round on a Saturday after that. I did the same route, but when I look back on the fitbit tracker, I was in the peak heart rate and not in cardio. I was about to learn that I needed to run smarter now that I am older.
Now I iced my knee, and it was harder to bend it for stretching, that I very quickly felt that I needed. My knee was still swollen the next day. I iced it and treated it gingerly. It didn't feel too bad. I felt more tired that I usually would early in the day, but I was proud to actually do it on call. Work days are usually bad days for exercise or sleep. In this case I was only sacrificing a little sleep.
Day 5 came and I ran the same route. It was hot and muggy, so I went out in the evening before the sunset. I couldn't imagine doing this everyday, but I thought I might get this every other day thing going.
Day 7 was a late run, and it was a critical decision to do this run, because I had worked all day, and the Habs were in the playoffs. I still had cable for one more day, and it ended up that it was their last game of the season. In mourning, and now after dark, I ran the well lit streets in my neighbourhood, finishing before midnight, on a slow jog around the streets and bike paths without having to cross any traffic, around 4 km.
Day 9 followed a very late shift, and plans for a walk with a friend in the afternoon. I would have rather hung out with my daughter, but she was keen to get some alone time in the house, so I kept a promise to myself, and ran after supper for a 20 minute 2.7 k run around the neighbourhood, enjoying the sunset.
Day 11 was another late one, with my summer birthday cleanup and Princess Pirate's summer birthday preparations in full swing for the next day. I ran for 30 minutes around 10 pm, with PP up late but encouraging me not to break the chain. It started to feel like the shorter distances were a better fit for me, which was disappointing, but I started to recognize my knees and abdomen again as not so frightfully middle ages as I had feared would be permanent.
By this point, my running was better, but I had to remind myself that I took up running to get into the practice of writing, and I wasn't doing that at all. Any free time I had was taken up in the act of running. Stretching was also difficult to get in, and my lower back was starting to feel tight.
By the time day 13 and 15 came, I was camping, and sometimes walking far enough that a run felt like a lot of effort. But the habit was kept, and the hills were not as tough as they would have been in the first runs, and I would run around the campgrounds and through the forest trails, even if the length of run was not as long. Combined with the drive and an air mattress deflating for uncomfortable sleeping, my back and legs were contracting up into flexion. I had in mind the visual of a faun, with the bent legs of a goat, but feeling none of the advantages of their natural spring. Stretching in the gravel wasn't easy, and I was starting to think that this was not going to be a sustainable frequency, but I committed to idea of finishing the month, and was starting to know what day it was most days. After covid isolation and decades of irregular shift work, I had often loss the sense of weekdays and weekends. Now, I knew at least that it was an odd day if I was running and it was even day if I was not.
Now it is August, and I did take a pause for a few days, and felt a twinge to watch the odd day pass without a run. I did the smart thing and scheduled my 3 runs a week in my calendar, not based on the day of the week, or an odd or even number. And so on August 4th I ran my first run of the month. Now when I run, I have to run a good distance. In the hot weather this week, this meant that I headed to the local woods where the trails are shaded.
In one month, my legs are stronger, my knee doesn't bother me if I take short strides, and I recognize my body again. I have to stretch before and after for just about as long to feel normal (the toll of the biped is contained in the hamstrings and calves at this age), and I may have run 5.5 k today in 45 minutes, when I ran a 10 k in 49 just 20 years ago, but after a prolonged hiatus, I can call myself a runner again.
Now I just have to figure out how to be a writer too.
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