The Cruelty of Nature

Recently, Ted and I pulled our running shoes back from under the bed, dusted them off, and laced them up. Mine were really towards the front, with only a few weeks of spotty running at best since Broad Street more than a month ago.

Ted's were growing cobwebs.

We started out small, with two miles three days a week, working our way up to the 5K in July. Just this week, I started doing duel runs...getting up in the morning, and promising to run in the evening with Ted, too. While it was hard at first, it quicky brought the itch back, and I feel I have re-gained control over who is in charge with my running workouts.

What always amazes me, and pisses me off, is the ease one's body will forget what it was once capable of. It took me months to gain the endurance (and confidence) to run Broad Street. And a mere few weeks after Broad Street, my body protests any activity that carries it beyond the street corner, two blocks away. So long to gain it, so quick to lose it.

But it's also a good life-lesson learned from running. As with any talent, the practice is an important aspect of improving, and with no practice, things get forgotten. Whether it's a musical instrument or a physical activity, the return after any hibernation always reminds me that it is just, whether you like it or not, nature's way of making you earn what you get, and making the success that much sweeter.

Or, loosely related, as my mother used to always tell my brother and me, "If you don't use your brain, God will take it back".