Have you ever been part of a group where you did not know anyone? Maybe a tour group in another country or a project team at work or in a volunteer organization? One of the ways facilitators try to form some cohesion in situations like that is to ask everyone to introduce themselves and to include something unrelated to their work or volunteer role. This is called an ice breaker for obvious reasons, and for the last three decades of my life I would usually choose one of my active sport hobbies of tennis or running to represent who I was. I was a runner, it defined me.
At the age of 35-ish I started losing tennis matches to players with lesser skills but better fitness and decided I needed to develop more endurance. Running seemed like an easy way to do that so that very first morning I got up early and decided to start out slowly by running two miles. It’s funny now to realize the hubris I possessed. It was a shock when after a hundred yards I was totally gassed. I had to stop. My concept of me as a superior athlete was severely challenged by the fact that I couldn’t run even a quarter mile, much less two miles. While disappointing, it also motivated me to keep trying. I decided I would just run as far as I could, then walk until I caught my breath and then run some more. Each week I ran a little further and walked less. It took a full two months before I actually made it the entire two miles! I remember how that felt like such a big win. I kept up the running three or four times a week in addition to my tennis. For the first few years I ran alone in our neighborhood, but the summer horse flies were so intense I was forced to find a new route. We had a nice high school stadium with a quarter mile warning track around it and that became my new warm weather course.
There was a large group of runners who met at the stadium parking lot that I would exchange greetings with before I would head to the track and they would take to the streets. This went on for a year or two before one of the street runners, a very wealthy and imposing attorney, stopped me on the track and told me I should be running with them. He had been watching me and judged my speed would put me in the faster group of their runners. What a change that was, running with other people and having conversations and friendly races to the finish. I got drawn into the camaraderie of the group, pizza parties, 5K’s and road trips. They urged me into my first ten mile run, and later into running my first full marathon. While I never truly enjoyed the act of running I loved seeing myself as a runner, and I loved the fellowship of a truly amazing group of people who ranged from billionaires to school teachers. And I became quite dedicated. There were times I was up at 3 AM to squeeze in a twenty mile run before heading into work at 8AM. I know that sounds crazy. It was crazy, but I was committed.
My running speed started to deteriorate about ten years ago. I had some mysterious anemia, a knee injury and, unknown to me at the time, some internal issues compromising my heart and lung performance. The anemia resolved and the heart and lung issues were repaired with surgery about a year ago but both knees were now protesting the abuse of so much pounding on the city streets. A second surgery a couple of months ago restricted me to just walking for six weeks and I found the knees were much better for it.
Since my first love is tennis and my second one is pickle ball I depend on being mobile. I have come to the conclusion that if I keep running it will likely push me into knee replacement much sooner than if I don’t. Orthopedic surgeons do not recommend playing singles tennis after that and singles tennis is what I love to play. So backing away from what I want to do and objectively choosing the best path to keep my favorite hobbies viable is where I am. And it is so frustrating to have to let things go in life. As I get older, and I’m already ancient compared to most of you, it’s part of life. I never let my skis leave the snow now and I stay off most of the double diamond expert runs. It’s just common sense, you don’t bounce at my age, you just hit the snow like a sack of cement when you fall. But I never saw myself as a skier, I was a runner. I ran fifteen marathons and a thousand miles a year for decades. While a lot of people my age are couch bound and sedentary I am still beating the high school tennis team players in singles. I feel like running is what has let me keep my tennis skills into my sixties.
So this is it. I’m saying goodbye to running for good. It hurts to type that. Even though I do not enjoy running, especially now with aching knees, I hate to change my mental label from “runner” to “walker”. It’s just another lost item, like much of my hair and some of my friends. I’m whining, I know. There are many (old) people who would trade their bodies for mine in a heartbeat. I can hike and climb and play my favorite sports. I never have a problem with gaining weight even though I eat anything I want and as much as I desire. I’m not a bad looking guy for my age and I have no chronic health conditions. I have plenty of investments to fund our lifestyle and an amazing healthy active wife (for the last 44 years). I’m a leader in our community, have enjoyable and important volunteer roles and three grown self sufficient kids. I can work, if and when I want, at some well paid and interesting projects. It is ridiculous for me to feel sorry for myself when I’ve been so blessed for so long. Life is very good. You adjust to change. You pick your best options and you accept the realities you cannot change. But part of getting to acceptance is grieving what you’ve lost. That’s why I wrote this, to help me let go. And it has.
Everyone has lost things that were once a big part of their life. Have you had to say goodbye to something difficult to let go?
How would you deal with losing part of your identity?
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