Hi, This is Matt – backroom geek of ATPT. Although you are all used to Bruce regaling you with his yarns of this and that, I think I finally have a topic that warrants using some recycled electrons to publish my thoughts.
About three years ago, at an age when I should have known better, I tried my hand (or feet) at running. My daughters, both in their young 20s, ran. My oldest as a JAG candidate for the Air Force and the younger as an endurance regimen for both her university major (Kinesiology) and Michigan State Marching Band.
Me? I was never a runner. In my hay-day, I played baseball and softball. I hit and I ran 90 feet. If I was lucky, I turned left ran another 90 feet. Again if lucky, I turned and ran another 90 feet with an option for one more left and 90 feet to home. Then, I went to the bench and gasped for breath. The thought of running 3 miles always amazed me. And anyone who could had my undying admiration. I could never get half a block. My bride could even harken back to her tennis training and took back to it like riding a bike.
Fast forward to three years ago and my daughters. By this time, I was no longer running 90 feet and turning left – I really wondered if I could run 30 feet much less 3 miles (And I thought the 13.1 and 26.2 stickers on cars were some type of satellite radio station frequency). But I started, half as a sympathy runner and half just to see how far I could get.
I found running to be a matter over mind – it took me a while to learn that running is as much mental as it is physical.