Notes from Maine - 2022/04/24

I’ve started running again. The temperatures this time of year are perfect for me. In the first ten minutes, before I’ve caught my breath, I love the wheezing, aching feeling in my lungs. Acid builds up in my mouth and I slog on, trying to push through. When I was a kid, I absolutely hated that feeling. Now, I’ve love it. I know that eventually everything will even out and I’ll find clarity. 

In high school I despised physical education. I was bad at everything. Running was the worst. We had to complete the mile and a half (2.4km) for the test and it was beyond the limit of my ability. I would get to a place where it felt like I would never catch my breath again and I would have to stop and gasp for air as I stumbled along on twitching legs. It never occurred to me that I could get better at it with a little practice. I suppose I thought that my body just didn’t work the same way as everyone else’s. 

I have fun doing physical things now, but I really don’t regret that I wasn’t into sports when I was younger. Everyone else my age has been through knee surgeries or shoulder/back problems because they were careless with their bodies when they were young. At least that’s the way it seems to me. When I got into mountain biking in my twenties, my body was brand new. I learned to use my muscles for the first time. I do regret accepting the limitations though. If I had chosen not to exert myself, that would have been one thing, but I took it as a given that I was incapable. Thinking back, I was a decent swimmer. I wasn’t on the varsity team, but I competed extracurricularly, which is more than I can say for other sports. 

At this point in my life, working out is almost like self defense. I know I’m going to feel better and sleep better if I’m active. After I’ve exercised, the rest of the day flows more naturally. I don’t have the looming feeling that I’ve wasted the day. So many wasted days in the rearview mirror—I’ve lived about 20,000. I wonder how many have been “good” ones? I’m tempted to start making lists and see how that goes. Each morning I could take a minute and make a list of everything I want to accomplish. I’m sure that I’ll be terrible at estimating my capability at first, but maybe I could get to a point where I can accurately plan out a day. Then I’ll know for sure if I’ve hit my goal. 

I would like to feel more productive. Although, I don’t want to stress out trying to hit some arbitrary target that I set for myself. I think I’ll go for a run and think about it. Maybe the answer will come to me when I’m in that calm period after I’ve caught my breath and before my feet start to ache.