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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Duckslayer100" data-source="post: 486571" data-attributes="member: 1485">I went for a run today. Trying to get back at it. Age, and sloth, have led to a spongier body than I intended. What took 6 months to gain, is going to take at least that to lose. And with the biological clock ticking, I imagine I may never get back to the way I was.But we went, because it's good for us. That is, Zeke and I. He needs the run as much as I do. Burn off some steam and calm the nerves. Forget about the chaos for a while (work for me, squirrels for him) and just zen out.I once had an acquaintance jokingly respond to a Facebok post I'd made, a picture my wife took of me grinning like an idiot while running a half marathon."I don't think we can be friends if you find running fun," he quipped.Running used to be a lot more fun. Think opening the throttle on an outboard and finally getting off plane. That smooth, crisp feeling of locomotive motion. When I was good, it felt endless.That's the crux of being a runner who has gotten out of shape. You can remember how it used to be. And it's frustrating because now is nowhere close to back then.When I first started running, it was also because of a dog; my first one, Remy, who I decided needed more exercise than fetching could satisfy. So I'd laced up some tenners ,stuck him on a leash, and we slogged out the front door and straight into a crisp winter afternoon.Getting eyes and cheeks and lungs blasted with sub-freezing air was riveting. It kind of reminded me of jumping in the lake and grandpa's cabin after taking a sauna. My wife thought I was crazy, but it was like a drug. I couldn't stop. And besides, Remy needed the exercise! Me getting in shape was simply serendipitous.But that was nigh 20 years ago. Kids are here, and time feels extremely condensed. We rush from one thing to another, the hours and days and months slipping through my grip like a slimy pike. Fitting in a run, which used to be as natural as waking up and making a pot of coffee, seems daunting.These are all excuses, I tell myself, sweat pouring down my face and stinging my eyes. The sun is high and hot, the wind like a hairdryer on full blast. It may surpass 80 today, they say. I can feel it with every thump of my heart and gasp of breath.At one point, I let the hound jump in the river for a quick drink and cool down. The water is just about perfect for bank fishing. If this weather can hold, the kitties will be on the feedbags soon enough.The daydreams of lazy afternoons and heavy poles in murky water continue while we make our way home. If there's one thing runs are good for -- aside from exercising the dog, and myself by happenstance -- is dreaming. And thinking. And forgetting the chaos for just a bit.Whether work, or squirrels.</blockquote>

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