“The Best Shape of My Life”
One of my favorite sports cliches is the aging veteran who arrives in camp to start the season talking about how he has rededicated himself to training, adopted a whole new routine, finished rehabbing that injury that derailed things last season, and is excited to prove that he still deserves that contract because he is “in the best shape of my life!” Invariably, this player put up a few strong games/weeks before tweaking a hamstring or rolling and ankle and then begins a long slow move back toward the mean. This is (usually) not because the guy was lying about his conditioning or doesn’t want to prove the doubters wrong—- it’s because he’s an aging veteran, and that means he’s old.
I have been more dedicated toward training for this running trip than for any running project I’ve done in a decade. Not only have I been running religiously, I’ve also been cross training, stretching regularly, and eating more fruits and vegetables than usual. Also, I’m coming up on four years of continuous sobriety, which is a big improvement from the way I was treating my liver and other organs when I was doing serious training in the past. In many ways, I am in the best shape of my life. But, if I had to run a 5k against the version of myself from 10 years ago, I would lose badly, even though that guy never stretched and drank in excess of 10 beers a day more often than not. I’m an aging veteran— it takes a lot more work to get myself to the same level of fitness, I’m much more prone to injury than I used to be, and it takes me longer to recover than it ever did in the past.
But the good news is, I’m aware of that. In fact, that’s why I’m doing things like stretching and eating acai bowls for breakfast. Two days ago I ran a brisk six miles and felt great, but yesterday I did a three mile recovery job and felt sluggish on the run and the rest of the day. Tomorrow, I have a seven mile trail run planned over some intense hills. So today, I sat around and put my feet up. I know that I need to listen to my body, because if I don’t I’ll get hurt, and once I get hurt it might be weeks or even months before I’m back where I need to be. It’s a little depressing to think that I’ll (hopefully) be able to write this exact same post in another 10 years, talking about how 45 year old me could kick 55 year old me’s ass even though I take much better care of myself. But unless you’re going to go the whole RFK jr TRT route, that’s an inescapable part of the whole process of life. And in the meantime, just because you’re an aging veteran, it doesn’t mean you can’t still make some valuable contributions to the team.
If you’re new here and read this far, please take a look around the rest of the website to learn what I’m training for and how you can help. If you’d like to contribute to my fundraiser for the National Diaper Bank Network, please hit the “Donate” button up at the top of this page and make a small contribution. Thanks!
