If youth is wasted on the young, perhaps wisdom is wasted on the old. What use is discovering it now, when more than half my life is gone already?
I was thinking about this today on my early run along the canal in Leeds. For a few minutes, I was so happy that I thought about ending it all. I thought I could tie myself in a sack with a few bricks in it, perch on the edge of the canal, and wait for some vindictive kitten to wander past and give me a shove. How pleasant to go out on a high note.
You have to imagine the scene. At seven this morning, the sun wasn’t just out, it was soupy and golden the way it gets at this time of the year. I left my hotel and knew at once that all would be well. This is supposed to be a grim, urban landscape, but the canal looked implausibly gorgeous in this light. Why hadn’t I noticed all that over-arching greenery before? I finally saw it today only because it was reflected so vividly in the water, which beneath this sky was as clear and as bright as a mirror. The bridges too. As I rounded each bend, each bridge was doubled by its reflection. The symmetry was almost painfully beautiful.
I managed just under 5 miles, and it would have been more if I’d not had to get back for work. The speed continues to improve too. Apart from Saturday’s languid 5.5 miler, the last 4 runs have been successively quicker. I’m still well above 10 minute mile pace, but edging nearer all the time.
It was a grand run today. Apart from a scheduled one-minute walk at the halfway mark, it was 50 minutes of strong, confident running by my standards. I almost felt fit. Properly fit. How good it feels to be energised and truly awake like this. It’s not a secret because I’ve been hearing for years that running makes you feel good. But somehow, I never thought it applied to me. It does.
Hurrah!
