I ran four and a half miles yesterday, my first exercise beyond walking in the last two weeks.  It felt so good.  The soreness in my legs this morning is a welcomed sign that I’m back on track to train for a marathon.  Maybe not an October marathon anymore, but one while I am still sixty.  I have until next April.

I met with my cardiologist Friday and she assured me my heart is healthy.  She scheduled more exams and visits with other specialists to determine what triggers my irregular heartbeat, but other than it forcing me to walk on some runs, my health isn’t in danger.  She cleared me to run again.  She’s a runner.  She gets me.

After a couple of melancholy weeks, I left her office almost manic.  I can imagine how the importance I assign to running might appear juvenile to others, but it’s my North Star.  It’s been a constant throughout my life.  My successes and failures running mirror other aspects of my life.  Having this almost inane abstraction to real life helps me cope.  I’m a runner.  There are worse habits.

My next big running event won’t really involve me running.  I’m going to serve as crew chief for my son-in-law as he runs the Run Rabbit Run 100 miler in Steamboat next month.  It’s an elite event with some of the world’s best ultra trail runners.  The photo above is of Addie Bracy, the female winner of last year’s event.  With a $75,000 overall purse, $15,000 will go to each of the men and women’s winners.  As crew chief, I’ll have unimpeded access to all of it.  Life is good.