Sometimes Getting Older Means Letting Go of Pride
I’ve hit that crossover stage where experience is informing reality when it comes to what I can and can’t do physically anymore. Toby Keith was perhaps a little older when he sang, “I’m not as good as I once was, but I’m as good once as I ever was.” But it’s just as true.
I hadn’t gone on a
multi-mile run since high school. However, I’ve held it as a matter of course
that I could lace up my sneakers and jog a couple miles if I needed to. After
all, I didn’t train to run in high school, I just did it. Why would now be any
different? Spoiler alert: It is very different.
I decided to see
what I could do. The 11-year-old wanted to come along and it turns out that was
the best way to see how vastly different running is to a kid and an early
middle ager.
If I ran too far
or too fast as a kid I would get out of breath and might get a stitch in my
side. But I don’t ever recall my legs being tired. However, even for a slow
jog, that’s exactly what happened. Less than half a mile in my legs felt like
lead. The 11-year-old didn’t regulate his breathing very well, but I have no
doubt he could have kept going for a long time. I had to break into a walk and
could only marvel at the invisible cement that must have been coating my shoes.
Lesson one,
without working up to it I can’t pick up and start running. Lesson two: Furniture
mover is no longer a career option. This lesson came first but it didn’t really
resonate until recently. A couple years ago while trying to move a piece of
furniture that was way too heavy for me I injured my back.
Even after the drawn-out
physical therapy and recovery I still secretly thought it was a one-off issue
from trying to lift an oversize piece of furniture as opposed to a new reality
about lifting. However, I’ve now learned (several times) that lighter items can
be an issue too. And more importantly, I’ve learned my bounce back time is no
longer counted in days but weeks.
The physical
therapist who helped me recover said I may have been able to get away with just
muscling my way through lifting things when I was younger but I can’t do that
anymore. He said it’s a male trait to think if you could do something at some
time in the past you can do it now. This sure seems true.
If I stop to think
about it, I know I shouldn’t (and likely couldn’t) pick up a tennis racket and
play three competitive sets of tennis on a hot day like I could in my salad
days. But, as Toby Keith also sang, “my body says you can’t do that son, but my
pride says, “oh yes I can.”
It’s humbling to
go on a run that fades into a walk by necessity. To attempt to lift something
and only accomplish moving your vertebrae out of alignment. To have to confront
pride based on decades old laurels.