First, an important note about a lifetime of running is that this is an activity with a long tail. A long tail means that the period of decline is more gradual and much longer than the ascent. In the context of running, this means that a runner improves much faster in his or her twenties than he or she declines over the next forty years. Given the reality that for most people this decline begins somewhere between the late twenties and early thirties, I thought it was an ideal time for me as a runner to start making decisions with the next forty years in mind (instead of the next forty miles).
To put it another way, I should avoid overdoing it now because I might feel the consequences for the next forty years. This is a heavy consideration to make as I cruise down the Charles River or jog through Somerville and it was difficult at first for me to put it into practice. I’ve managed a good compromise to get myself to cut short any run where I start to feel pain or discomfort – I always bring my Hubway bike pass with me so that I can switch over from running to biking whenever I decide to give up. This trick has helped me gradually learn to control myself whenever I get that urge to run through the pain, a vestigial survival tactic from my competitive past that is now the biggest threat to my goal of running a marathon in my seventies.
Footnotes / endnote… wait, what’s gonna happen in forty years?
0. What’s the world record for a seventy-year old running a marathon?
That last line isn’t a joke, readers (though it isn’t a plan, either). I recall reading that a seventy-year old runner can do just as well as a seventeen-year old provided the elderly runner managed to avoid major injury in those intervening fifty-three years. It’s quite a qualifier, I admit, but given the recent changes I’ve made to my lifestyle I feel slightly better about my chances. See you at the finish line!
