Old Runners Just Fade Away

So it's been a long time since I posted on running. Let's just say that much of the last year has been, at best, a mixed bag. I hurt my back last May, in one of those "getting older and have no idea why I am sore this morning" incidents. This back injury made it very hard for me to sit at my chair in my office--I missed a good deal of work--and made it difficult to run because I couldn't really get the stride right.

After about a month, this cleared up, and I had a pretty good fall. I ran a 1-hour, 38-minute half-marathon in November. Then, historic snow in December, and in January, making it hard to run in DC. And I had the flu, which took me three weeks to get over. I missed at least one full week of running, and parts of two more, with upper-respiratory problems, and probably another whole week and part of another to snow.

So my mileage has been way down. I am shooting for 20 miles a week, which is modest given past efforts but more reasonable given my current every-other-day running schedule. Frustration and more, over less.

Still, something lingers. Yesterday, on a bright, beautiful winter day--blue skies, westerly wind but nothing awful--I ran almost 8 miles at slightly better than 8-minute-a-mile pace overall. Not trying to run "fast" (a relative term for an old runner) but finding that I could run just a bit faster than I was, and a bit faster yet . . . still at a training pace, not winded, feeling good the whole time.

That was what it is supposed to feel like. Sun on my face, moving at a comfortable clip. I can live with the frustration if once every now and again it can feel like that.