According to the schedule I'm following, today was supposed to be a 16 miler. I started this schedule about a month late, so I compromised and decided 10 would suffice. Six miles in, I was feeling it. I hate to say it, but getting old sucks. With that said, I know everyone over 23 is saying, "Ha, you should talk kid." But I can seriously feel a difference in my running from now and when I was running this much five years ago. As a friend my age and I were talking the other day, there's a different kind of pain that comes with running today as opposed to when I was 18. Then it was a soreness, an inconvenience, a badge of courage discomfort. Now it's a, "damn I gotta get home and ice this" kinda pain.
So six miles in my hips and knees were saying, "head home." I was on a back country road. Not many out on this gorgeous day except a woman walking her dog. We exchanged a nod and a hello. Then up ahead was an older man in his yard. I feel a little awkward coming across people at their homes' on less populated roads. Almost like I'm intruding. Plus, when I run I must look like a skinny bandit. With my black thermal spandex leggings, grey hoodie, gloves, and my black hat and black turtle fur covering everything but my eyes, I must look like an hip, evil ninja. But I always try to give a friendly hello.
However, this kind old man beat me to the punch. Seeing me all bundled up he said in his jolly way, "Not too long and we'll be in short-sleeve weather!" In between breaths I muttered, "Yup, getting there."
It was a short, banal interaction. But it was enough to take my mind off my body for a few seconds. After those seconds, when my mind was back on my run, I felt incredibly uplifted. Although my knees still ached and I felt like I had the Tinman's hips (pre-lubrication that is), I felt like I could run another eight miles.
I like friendly people.
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