Running again at 42

Twenty years ago I ran five miles a day four or five days a week. I didn't do this because I loved running. I hated it actually. I did, however, love the feeling I got after I ran. I also realized that, given that at the time I ate like a bird (which is to say I ate roughly my body weight in food each day) I had to do something to burn off what I was eating. Life was good. I was trim and could play racquetball for hours. We'd play six games at a time which would take us the better part of three hours. We thought nothing of it.

Now I find myself twenty years older and much slower. Oh, and might I add just a wee bit bigger. Okay, a lot bigger. Ruddy huge actually. Over the last five years especially my body has rebelled and the couch has become my closest and dearest friend. Last year I divorced my couch ending a long and dysfunctional relationship that left me sluggish, weak and tired. Leaving the couch was not easy and to make matters worse it still resides in my living room. We still see each other every now and again and my wife and children remain cordial but we still sense the couches sadness. I can't say as I don't feel for it but life moves on and my family realizes that to maintain a relationship with the couch just isn't healthy. I feel for the couch. I do but we must move on to a healthier life style. It's not as if I am kicking it to the curb. We've really just grown apart.

What makes things worse is I am sure my couch has noticed the time I've been spending with my treadmill. I try to be discreet and run only in the early morning when the house is relatively quiet. I turn the news on in an effort to placate the couch and let it live on in a delusion that nothing's changed. I imagine it sits there watching the morning news trying not to hear the treadmill in the other room. I am feeling that euphoria I had twenty years ago and it feels great. Every day I run farther and faster and look forward to the day when I am up to five miles again. It's never too late to do the right thing. Perhaps this is my mid-life crisis.