It was the worst of times, but ...
I had the best of times.
Joe Henderson, the one-time West Coast editor for Runner's World magazine, once told me I would be a runner for life.
At the time, I nodded in agreement because running was the most important thing outside my family and work. I couldn't wait to get out and put in my five miles or my track workout or my weekend long runs.
I was a runner. I was a road racer.
The past few years, however, running became less and less important. Injuries led to weight gain, weight gain led to more injuries and eventually it all led to doing a lot more sitting than moving.
I've written before about my return to running, this time, though, as a proud jogger or, as I like to write, a proud "walgger," mixing jogging with walking and doing most, if not all, with my wife. She was not included in my past running life, thus the emptiness of a long-distance runner.
Last Saturday, I ran my first 5K in two years, my first official race (wearing a race number) since the last Sutliff Bridge 5K a long, long time ago. I ran the entire 3.1 miles at the CRFD Memorial 5K at Prairie High School, finishing in 22 minutes, 42 seconds.
It very likely is the worst time I've ever recorded in a 5K, but I can guarantee you it was the best time I ever had running one. There was no stress, no worries and no pain. I ran a 7:40 first mile chatting with friend John Armon, then picked it up just enough to average 7:19. That's not fast, but it is fast enough for the new runner in me.
Now I just have to get my wife to finish her first 5K. She's ready, willing and more than able.
So, I guess, the best of times are yet to come.