Thirty years ago, I was a teenage soccer and rugby fanatic. Quick on my feet, good sprinter and good strategist made a great pick for regional and local games. I was, to be fair, a kid in great shape.
Fast forward to five years ago. Married, kids, work promotions, working through the night and week ends, eating on the run made me a successful yet unhappy and severely unhealthy, overweight forty-something man.
At that point, I chose to retake control of my life. Not let it control me. I started running. And feeling better. And loving the challenge in every run. Rain or shine, well rested or not.
My body though, would not cooperate. And periodically break down. Muscle pulls, ankle sprains, high arches needing insoles, IT band making my life miserable, and most recently Patellofemoral syndrome (PFS). Four weeks of physical therapy.
From one injury to the next, I have recovered. I have gotten stronger and smarter about my body and my running. Yet, I still break down.
Should I conclude that running is out of the question? Is it the inevitable fact? Why can I PR a 5K at age 48 (24:26) and cannot get my knees to cooperate?
My Cool Impossible (running fifty 50Ks by age 50K) has been within reach, getting ever closer every year, yet vanishing in an instant every injury.
But I was wrong. My Cool Impossible is not about conquering the outdoors, one 50K at a time.
It's about grit, courage and resolve. It's about banishing my fear of getting old. It's about accepting my flaws and strengths. I'll get stronger, smarter and older. Embrace it all. Beyond fear. Beyond limits.