Tears run down my face. I was thinking about running, one of those moments when fleet of foot, I feel like a knife cutting through the air, and I just started crying. I haven't really run since June 2018. Slow-healing tendinitis in the left Achilles. Perhaps one too many intervals on the track, but in any event the horse has been in the barn.
After Boston 2015, I had no desire to really run for a long time. My energies flowed to the bike, the pool, the ocean, my garden and the Eastern Sierras. However, as the wheel turned round, I found myself running to ski, and then running to run. And all of a sudden, the desire to run was back, modified, subdued, mellowed, but back.
But, now even a pedestrian effort will leave my Achilles inflamed. When I arise in the morning, half the time I feel it as I go down the stairs. "Good morning to you too, sir."
The last few months have found me in the Pacific, returning to my second passion in life - surfing, the first being skiing. Unfortunately, for whatever reason (too much surfing, too soon), I now have pain in my right foreman/elbow, and lack grip strength. Please don't shake my hand.
Perhaps the tears come from the realization that I'm 47, and I've finally and truly reached the point I can't hit it like I used too, and when I try too, my body pays a progressively steeper price, e.g. Achilles and forearm pain.