By Francis Marion – April 9th, 2017
“Time is the fire in which we burn.” – Delmore Schwartz
Yesterday was the first day of spring training for me. I run all year, but only in the flats throughout the winter. December through March the hills are kind of treacherous. They are covered in a combination of slick, rotting leaves, mud and sometimes ice and snow. This year was especially bad for winter conditions. I spent almost the entire month of January on the treadmill in the basement because of a winter the likes of which we haven’t experienced in the PNW for many years.
But yesterday, as the sun finally came out and warmed up the air I knew it was time. My favorite trail to run with the kids is a ten-kilometer route with twelve to thirteen hundred feet in elevation gain. We jog most of it except where the grade is too steep, each time trying to shave more and more time off our previous attempt.
As I hopped up the first flight of stairs leading to the head of the trail I paused and looked back out over the valley. I thought back to my late teens and early twenties when my friends and I used to do trails like this at a steady run. We’d race to the top to see who could get there the quickest. I shook my head. Now I’m just happy to trot along at a solid pace and enjoy the view while trying to improve little by little each time we go.
I stood at the trail head stretching my legs and watched my daughter run up the stairs behind me with a small twenty-pound pack on her back. As she rounded the top to the landing I told her to take the bag off and give it to me.
“You don’t have to carry that dad,” she said to me with a smile. I considered it for a moment. I always carried the pack, even though the extra weight slowed me down because as ‘dad’ it was my job to do so. I smiled back at her and thought about it. It would be nice for someone else to do the heavy lifting for a change, especially on the steeper bits.
I’m beginning to recognize I am at a pivot point in my life. Things aren’t quite the same as they once were. I’m not as strong or as fast as I used to be and if I allow my health to slip, even a little, it manifests itself in ways it never did in the past. Recovery is more time consuming as well. An extra five pounds gained over the Christmas season is no longer shed in a couple of weeks. It takes months. And it hurts.
Everything is like this I suppose. Critters, people, forests, mountain ranges, societies and I guess even planets and stars. All of it has its time, its rise and its fall.
So I’ve quit worrying. I’m taking the old sages advice and giving up concern for lent.
“There is only one way to happiness and that is to cease worrying about things which are beyond the power or our will. ”
Epictetus was right. Time sees to most things and we control very little of it. Our world, our societies especially, are like forests that have been neglected and grown old. They are in need of a fire in order to start over and regrow as no amount of pruning, cutting or planting can fix what we have done. They have had their moment.
Some will see this as a morbid point of view. But I see it simply as realistic. I ask, who are we that we believe we can stop what time has chosen for us? Do we think we are God?
Modern man thinks he is immortal. He no longer considers his death and our nations reflect that childishness. I was watching a video the other day, of a hunter stalking a Cape Buffalo in the Caprivi, and was struck by how much modern man is like Syncerus Caffer. Strong, confident and dangerous in numbers and unaware that the hunter, that time, stands nearby, rifle at the shoulder ready to claim its prize.
Hunting season and the high country are only a few short months away, so I took the pack from my daughter, shouldered it and tightened the straps. From the top of my own hill I can see the downward slope and so I carry the extra twenty pounds up the trail.
We, like the buffalo, go from grass to meat to grass and think little of it. Until it is too late. Time will do the same to me. But for now, I can still carry the pack. Less for the sake of extending something I cannot stop and more to simply improve the quality.
So it is, onward and upward I go.
There is comfort in knowing that everything is temporary.
Thanks for the reminder.
My pleasure.
Went out last night after I finished this for a quick four km run on the dike behind the house only to discover that the opener to hill season had left me with shin splints. I’ve never had to live with shin splints until recently, just the last year or two. Getting older has its advantages and disadvantages I suppose. Better perspective but its harder to get the spot with the view.
A lady I greatly admired told me that she believed……..you pick anyone at random, any stranger, and I bet you that individual is doing the best they can given this moment in time and the circumstance surrounding them.
Now I grant you that statement is easy to pick apart. But I’ve always found an upbeat, acceptance in it and still carry it with me some 30 plus years on down the road. She was quite somethin’.
That sounds exactly like something my wife says- “I always remind myself that no matter how difficult people can be they are doing the best they can with what they have.”
I find her optimism inspirational, if somewhat irrational.
Pursuing health and a regular PT is something new to me. I wish I had developed these habits earlier in life, the pain from the gain is a new and unwanted, but necessary part of my life now. The “meat” part of my existence will benefit by my physical exertions today, so I keep moving forward. My family will also benefit, as I will be more useful to them as I move into my declining years. Your words were a helpful reminder to me to be prepared for whatever the future may bring and to remember that when the time comes to step up, that will not be the time to start what should have been started years before.
“I’m beginning to recognize I am in a pival point in my life.Things are not the same as they once were.” And ” Modern Man thinks he is immortal “..I found this out the hard way to with this damn Hernia .I never talked about it much but I have always been a member of various health clubs like YMCA or GOLD’S gym.I have always like weight lifting or weight training.Doctors have already told me I will probably never get to weight train again or run fast again ..I guess this was my pival point moment.
I am a mentor for my county. In various group settings throughout diverse institutions of incarceration, I am constantly reminded of a quote that stuck with me from the movie “Almost Famous” that said something like:
“The only true currency in this life is that which we tell each other when we’re not trying to be cool”.
There’s dignity in trying our best with what we have at any given time; wisdom in doing the next right thing; humility in acknowledging our limitations; and comfort in knowing we’re not alone.
Personally, I have found these to be more important than winning. A champion is someone who gets up even when they can’t.
That pic of the incline with the steps reminds me of the incline up the mountain at the lodge where I did my Order of the Arrow Ordeal in 1967. The ordeal didn’t include any run up an incline like that, it was about working on improvements to the lodge while remaining silent for 48 hours.
The incline was just the trail to the gathering grounds partway up the mountain, one of several trails like that on the grounds of the lodge. Nowadays, climbing that incline would be an ordeal in itself, given the disabilities from a car wreck.
The pic of the Cape Buffalo brings back memories of reading Robert Ruark’s books on hunting in Africa. I used to want to buy an H&H .500 express rifle and go on safari. That idea faded once the necessity of working to make my own way came to the fore.
Grass to meat to grass…yeah that’s pretty much the cycle of the bison and that of the other ruminants we eat. Our own cycle is close to the same.
About two years ago my hunting partner bought himself a new Merkel double in 470 nitro. It was one of those “But honey look how much I saved!” moments. The problem with a rifle like that is it screams out to be hunted with. You can hear it in the vault at night calling your name.
A year later, last October, he was in the Eastern Cape, not with me of course, but with his lovely bride, stalking a small group of dugaboys. He tips the biggest bruiser over and while he, the PH, the tracker and skinner are giving the bull time to expire his lovely bride exits the Land Cruiser with camera in hand to take photos while they aren’t looking. They caught her as she was cutting the distance to a mere fifty yards from the downed bull.
I told him if he’d simply put up the cash to bring his old buddy along instead of his beloved sweetheart, that sort of thing wouldn’t have happened. I’d even have helped him out with a follow-up shot just to make sure. Cause that’s what friends do for each other, eh?
Good story Foxy.
Ed,I hadn’t thought about Robert Ruark in years. He was way b4 my time but years ago I read a book by him called “The Old Man and The Boy”,about his grandfather.
A great book,thanks for the reminder.
Robert Ruark’s grandfather’s house is a few miles from where I live and is now a Bed & Breakfast. They even named a street after him since he spent a lot of time in the area while growing up.
Optimism. It is about the future, and not the present. The hidden things are just as important. You are older now, but still as young as you feel. Instead of letting your daughter take the twenty pound pack, you are already thinking ahead to hunting season, thinking to be ready for whatever lies ahead. Preparing yourself for unknowns unknown.
My mother used to say,”getting old is not for wimps”. I didn’t consider myself old at that time, so I would just smile back, but the back of my head is going “MOM SERIOUSLY”. You are about my age, but I am here to tell you age is still a mindset. I may feel older than most can comprehend, but stick me on something and I start thinking HOW HIGH, and I wonder how well the front end comes up. I know healing does takes longer these days, and even some of the little things hurt, but hey, looking at a jog like that with 20 pounds. Sounds optimistic to me. You are as young as you feel.
Nice read FM. We going to see another chapter soon?
mm,
I have been procrastinating with the book. My mind is filled daily with dreams of adventure and the preparations that follow. Last night in bed as Mrs. Marion was snuggled up and lying with her head on my chest I told her that I had applied for a goat tag in the north for September. There was quiet and I wondered if maybe it was bad timing but then she started to snore. I’m taking that as approval and I went to sleep with images of billy goats and monster high country muley bucks dancing through my mind.
My body is getting older and a bit worn but my mind still runs constantly, almost like I am twenty, but with the advantage of time and experience. I just need to refocus. Soon hopefully.
I started on next winter’s firewood this week. 12-pound maul, splitting oak rounds. 12 pounds doesn’t sound like much, but lift it above your head a few hundred times and you’ll know it.
Every year it gets harder, and every year it hurts more. People tell me to get a hydraulic splitter. Fuck that, I’ll do it this way as long as I can, I cheat enough using a chainsaw anyway. The only way I know to extend youthful vigor is to work hard, real hard. Weights…OK. Wrestling…much better. Running? Good if you run up hills, not so much use on the flats. Same for biking/mountain biking, gotta push yourself. 20 minutes on hills, or wrestling someone tough, is worth way more than several hours on the flat.
Yep. The difference between the flats and the hills is huge both for muscle and lung/heart development. The flats are for maintenance. I can’t lose weight on them no matter how far I run because of the way I eat. Mrs. Marion takes very good care of me, Mennonite girls can cook.
Also, I like trails with at least some stairs built in as well as the stairs work different muscles than the slopes do. That way when we hit the alpine starting in the summer we don’t end up with sore muscles recently discovered. Nothing worse than finding new muscle on a long haul.
My wrestling days unfortunately, are long gone so I add on a regime of stretching and calisthenics to supplement the running. Seems to work good and even with the fused back and neck I am in better condition than the majority of guys I know who are my age.
How old Francis? I’m 59. The other day one of the young fellas I wrestle with asked me how different I feel from 30 years ago. I thought about it a bit, and realized that I really don’t feel much different. Less wind, but not much less. The maul hurts more the first couple of days each year, but it always hurt, so really not a huge change. And my mind is much sharper, more analytical, more critical.
Funny thing, a bit crude but I think it means something, my dick is harder when I wake up in the morning than it was when I was 25. What does that mean?
Socratic,
I’m 44.
But the better part of my neck and back are fused solid. Which means I’m healthy overall with the regular exercise, can look straight ahead but don’t shoulder check very easily. I suspect the handiwork that has been done back there over the years would react negatively to contact sports these days so I avoid it. I need to keep mobile for another forty-four if I can and don’t want to screw it up. That means no more hockey or Kenpo for me.
As for your member, I wouldn’t get too excited. The erection is most likely due to your bladder not being what it once was. Not that it matters. At 59 you should be proud that it still works at all! 🙂
Buy yourselves a speedbag, and find some old fart that can give basics. Your neck will love it. Stay the heck away from steroid shots at all cost.
Socratic, around here a twelve lb sledge ain’t no small potatoes. Anybody there says so give them an eight and dare them to keep up with you once you are used to it. We had 8 12 & 16, and the 16 had the same handle for decades, until the kids got a hold of it. Want to know to swing it all day, and not hurt.
Aww shoot you guys doing this much exertion this will be handy for you all. They used to sell two kinds of aminos. Branch chain, and free form. They were for before the workout the other one was for after. I found that I couldthrow 8 inch concrete blocks all day in a frenzy. (Back then). No muscle fatigue the next day. I don’t know how they are sold anymore, and I have heard some negs about GNC. There is a good story behind this.
“My favorite trail to run with the kids is a ten-kilometer route with twelve to thirteen hundred feet in elevation gain.”
—-FM
Well, there’s your problem with aging. Only 10 klicks and over a thousand feet elevation gain? Please. That’s a walk in the park.
Try walking around a green stalking a 30-foot putt with maybe 3-4 feet elevation gain or loss. You walk so much your Fitbit starts smoking.
2 bucks are on the line, and your buddies are counting on you to drain it. You miss by 6 feet and then miss the next putt. You turn around, and they’re coming at you with pitchforks. THAT’S AGING.
🙂
I golfed a lot when I was kid. The acreage I lived on bordered the local course so we used to grab our clubs in the summer and go fo a round on a regular basis. Now I’m lucky if I golf once or twice a year. I enjoy it though. Even with the neck and back basically all one piece of bone these days it’s still a hoot. My long game is still good. The greens kill me though. Putting is not like riding a bike, contrary to what I am told. I spend as much time trying to put that fucking little ball into the cup from twenty feet as do I putting it on the green in the first place.