2016 has beaten me down some.
I had grand plans as noted in this year’s Goals blog post back in February.
While my mind was swimming in the beauty of incredible runs on far off trails, my aging body had other ideas.
As soon as the struggles began with my hips/glutes during the Spring training for the Blue Hills 10 miler, I knew it’d take at least all of May to rest and recover fully.
The knowledge that I would fall short of most of my Epics was obvious.
It sucks to fall short.
We all want to improve every year. Propel ourselves forward against the current. Do something great. Check big mountain runs off the bucket list then add new adventures.
When that doesn’t happen we feel idle and complacent.
But what struck me this year while the warm training days slipped through my fingers was I needed to re-adjust my attitude and expectations (again).
I’ve been in this place before – this idle place – with an eager mind and broken body.
It’s a downer.
Forlorn and frustrating.
But, something always sneaks up and punches me in the face when I’m feeling victimized by injury.
Like the airport incident I wrote about 3 years ago.
This time, it was on one of the hundreds of dog walks I do every year that got me.
If you have a dog, you know where this is going.
If you have a dog, then you know how much time you spend outside making sure your pup gets to exercise, socialize, pee, etc.
Here’s Bruno – one of my oversized slobbering mastiffs:
Photo Credits: K. Turner
At 8 years old he’s still fit and really just a big love.
Always anxious to go for a walk, his regular routine – his attitude, showed me where my head should be at:
I mean, this is happiness in pure and simple form.
It’s so easy – so attainable.
Right there on every walk.
Just roll in the grass – easy.
And sure as shit, every time he gets to enjoy his grass back massage, the enthusiasm of the moment, the presence, the satisfaction – he savors it.
I don’t need and shouldn’t need to run the Grand Canyon to feel validated this year. That treasure has been around for millions of years.
I’m sure it’ll be accessible during my lifetime so I need to relax.
“You’ll get there.” – is the new refrain in my head.
Just push it back for some other time.
Meanwhile, just roll in the grass and be present.
Feel comfortable with the knowledge that you are happy, healthy, and capable.
Those are life’s real privileges.