The final race is done before the oppressive heat of the summer sets in.
It had hills (OK, not hills to most of you, but for us flatlanders, they hurt). I’m glad the season is over and happy to take a break, though I keep peeking at the summer calendar to see if there’s anything I’d like to do. The answer is “maybe, but remember it’s hellish hot and you’re insane for considering it,” keeps surfacing in my brain.
The week leading up to the end of the season was good. I saw friends for breakfast and lunch, and in one case, commiserated for several hours with the widow of a dear friend over the loss of her husband. I’ve known them both for 45 years, thanks to a college internship where I served with them. They are kind, caring, funny, intelligent, well-read, well-traveled, the best parents their two now-grown sons could ever experience, and fantastic grandparents to two sweet granddaughters. Losing one hurts, but I am grateful to still have the other to lean on.
I feel fortunate to be mostly pain-free most days and have a competitive life to continue. I have a home and transportation I own, food and utilities, pets who like me (especially when I feed and pet them), friends and family who still speak to me. I look forward to a little downtime from racing, though the half-marathon idea is still pinging around in my head. I have space on the medal hanger and an empty shelf in the T-shirt collection area of the closet, ready for next season.
Old Is Serious...Aging Is Hilarious 