Twenty-four physical therapy sessions. The hardest work I’ve ever done.
And they’re over. And I am running again. Not hard or fast but at least back to 5K distance. I am also retired from full-time employment,
I’ll take both of those as a mark of success. I am looking for part-time work while I build back up to being me again. Back to two-a-day workouts. This retirement thing is a little buggy for me. I don’t like not working. I like having a schedule, and I do have one, written out on a whiteboard. Cleaning on certain days, yardwork on certain days, and my workouts varied. My cycling and swimming remain unaffected. Kickboxing is still a little tentative, though getting up and down from the floor is easier than it used to be.
The good thing about working is a known and steady stream of money to buy workout gear and pay entry fees. I am not worried about running through savings at this point, but I admit I like the idea of contributing to society in a meaningful way and getting paid for it.
So I spend several hours a day perusing job openings and thinking about what I would like to do, as opposed to what I have to do for work. That’s a nice form of freedom. I am also looking into doing more writing for other sites and employer blogs, hoping to spread the message: that age is an achievement, not a countdown. That physical and emotional setbacks are only permanent if allowed to get set in our mental concrete. Getting past the bad stuff in life means having a vision of life beyond the present and not bogging down in the “woe is me, why me?” mindset and not accepting “no” or “just good enough” for the answer.
From Day 1 of physical therapy, I knew a day of running would come again. I had a fair share of doubters in my life. I called them my haters and embraced them. I decided it was OK for their doubt to become fuel for my success. And it has. I am not the runner I used to be just yet. But I will get there.
Old Is Serious...Aging Is Hilarious 