After a somewhat late and incredibly fun evening with Dave and my friend Trey from my Kilimanjaro climb, I managed to get up early this morning to make my run with Kerry. It wasn’t a hard run, but my body felt old. I felt like the base of my spine was taking a beating with each step. It’s not normal for me to feel aches and pains while I run. Am I aging or was I experiencing the after-effects of a late night with a bit of wine? I’m not sure. I’m hopeful tomorrow’s run will feel different and perhaps assure me that I’m okay.

The dull ache of my spine reminded me how lucky I am to feel well most of the time. When I was sick a few weeks ago, I realized that I really do take my health for granted. A little headache makes me grumpy. Nearly two weeks of sickness makes me impatient and downright foul. I’ve run for nearly fifteen years with no major issues and, though I do very much enjoy running, it’s never occurred to me to be grateful at the end of an uneventful run for the uneventful nature of the run – to be grateful for feeling normal. But five miles of not feeling normal and I’m sitting here questioning whether my running days are over. I should be grateful when I’m able to run and feel good and go on merrily about my day.

To be clear, I’m highly doubtful that my running days are over. I think I’m just not rested and maybe I’m a little sore from Sunday’s race and Monday’s run. But I much prefer not to feel my body, not to notice my muscles, my joints, or anything out of the ordinary. Especially as I get older. The smallest sign of breakdown and my tendency is to assume I’m falling apart. I’m not, I don’t think. But just to be safe, I might go home and do some stretching and rest tonight and hope for an uneventful run tomorrow.