Post by PG on Oct 4, 2004 10:53:59 GMT -5
I turned 51 last April. Never thought I'd get this old. Like many of my generation - "the youth generation" - I remember admonitions to "never trust anyone over 30." Now, here I am - way way beond 30. From being a rebellious teen I've metamorphised into a grey haired upholder of the rules and mores of the community. How odd is that?
A couple of years ago, I realised I was having trouble on the portages. At first I began to think it was just age, another depridation caused by being around too long. Then I went on a canoe trip with papa and decided I was not ready to have a 76 year old man (at that time) ask if he could carry my extra pack.
I began to watch my diet and get out walking more. Slowly but surely it began to work. I took off weight and began to feel much better. I even began to think about running.
I used to run every day. I'd run between 3 and nine miles every day. I became convinced that no physical exercise is quite as good for you as running, provided your ankles and knees can take it. This ended when I got in a "hot pursuit" and ran a squad off a bluff ( I caught the felon I was chasing, however). I received some spinal damage. My running days were over, and I've never able to carry three Duluth packs on a portage since.
Running takes a lot of mental endurance. I never got used to running, though I did it every day for years. Every day was a struggle. I've been putting it off for some time now, though I've reached a weight where my ankles and knees should be able to take it again.
The other night I was backing up my partner on a DWI traffic stop. The suspect ran. My partner, a very skinny guy, took after him on foot. I followed - somewhat surprised I could keep up with my much younger partner - and I actually passed him. I was gaining on our quarry when "the road rose to meet me." Must have been a pothole or something, and I did some intense belly surfing.
Besides the blow to my pride I got road rash all over my hands, a good knock on my right knee and left toes and blew out $140 worth of uniform.
In the interveining couple of days, I've decided this is not going to happen again. Sara just located a "hoodie" for me, and in two or three minutes I'm going to put on the hoodie and see how far I can go running full out. I'll probably be back soon, but I'll go a little further each day until I can outrun a 20 year old drunk again.
Next thing will be to work on those three pack portages.
PG
