The Laziest Organ in the Body

Running was always important to me but this past year I have rediscovered a love for it that had been missing for almost 10 years. When I started back a few years ago it was difficult; achy joints, a painful and ego shattering slow pace, what felt like the lungs of a Lilliputian, and of course the puking. My knees reminded me that I had added 46 pounds to my frame. Climbing out of a car was fun. As the weight dropped so did the symptoms (although my knees still talk to me after long days). I quit a couple times but always found myself lacing up the running shoes. Each round was easier. Quality was out of the question but over the course of years I struggled my way to 40-50 mile weeks. I stopped again. Excuses were easy to come by when I had to drag my bloated carcass around town. When I quit running 10 years ago I was frustrated with 5:00 pace for 8k and 10ks. The comparative memory of going 0-to-70 in a week prevented me from truly appreciating my new accomplishments. When 7:45 pace is an effort the thought of that ancient workload was a burden.

Then during the spring of 2006 it started to click. I was having a good day once a week. I controlled my runs instead of being controlled by my limitations. Summer 2006 saw a steady increase in volume. Old high school friends had run a marathon which I passed on because I was just not ready. They ran another, and yet more while I kept plugging along. My thoughts prior to that summer were that I would never get into decent shape again. These thoughts were becoming an albatross of greater proportion than my knees.

As the calendar turned to 2007 I experienced extended consistency for the first time in almost a decade. My pace naturally improved. February came and went. My daily runs increased in length. I sprinkled 13-14 mile runs into the mix and my body survived. It was thriving. No puking. My mind reeled at the possibilities but was gun shy. It had been two years since I lost a lunch. Lack of sleep, work, and over enthusiastic on easy days still results in a physical breakdown about every 6 weeks so I take a few days off. No problem, I usually picked back up with a spring in my step. This was getting fun. I hammered a few days and felt strong dropping measured 6:30 miles at will. Hope crept into the picture.

At this juncture I’m able to put in 8-9 miles a day. While I’m only doing 5-day weeks (I seem to need the recovery) I feel strong most days and have increased the long runs to 15-17 miles. I have two workouts under my belt. Last Saturday’s hill repeats (4xHill at an average of 3:08 each) was very difficult but well worth it. I get sore but it’s ok if I stretch. I can foresee a trial race in the future and possibly a marathon. I can push myself pretty hard in training but no one really tests themselves until they race. More importantly, goals match the Golden Fleece in value.

Neil Armstrong said, “We expect too much of ourselves in a year, and not enough in ten.” It’s taken great patience but the payoff is big. Getting to this point has opened a path in front of me that lay hidden for years. It feels wonderful. My aging body has imposed new parameters but that’s part of the new challenge, inching toward those limitations. I have enjoyed exploring the Salem area, forging new loops, seeking out the hills, and pushing myself. I may finally be in shape to have some real fun. It gets good about now…and that is a sentiment that I thought was lost forever.

The past decade has taught me something. Russell Taylor, author of “The Looniness of the Long Distance Runner,” was right. The laziest organ in the body is the brain.