Brian’s fitness journal after a brain stroke
Sometimes life hands you a haircut you have been putting off for a whole month, and honestly, my hair was starting to have opinions of its own. This morning, I finally made it to the barber.
The timing was opportune, because next week the schedule fills right back up: birthday celebrations incoming, a friend visiting, and simply no room left for personal grooming when good times are on the agenda. We seized the window.
While I sat in the chair, my wife was doing what she always does: maximizing every available minute. She camped out in the car with her books and notes, working through the appointment with the focused energy of someone who considers a parking lot a perfectly legitimate office. As she puts it, any time is time she could use. I love that about her.
Forty minutes later I emerged newly shorn, cropped short enough that I could feel the April air doing its thing against my face. A brisk thing, as it turned out. Today was decidedly chilly, and I couldn’t help lamenting the brief window of gorgeous high-70s weather we had a few weeks ago. It came, it warmed us, and it left. Classic.
The haircut did bump my 10k run to later in the morning, but that turned out fine. It’s still early enough in the season that the temperature hadn’t climbed to punishing levels by the time I laced up. Silver linings.
The run itself? Let’s call it humbling. I didn’t hit my target pace today, which stings a little. The good news is that my blood work has improved. My red blood cell count is up, and I’ve already factored those gains into my pace targets. The less-good news is that the easy improvements are behind me now. I still need to knock another 20 seconds off my target pace before the year is out.
But here’s what I keep reminding myself: slow improvement is still improvement. The low-hanging fruit is gone, but the orchard isn’t empty. It just requires a taller ladder. I’ve got the time. I’ve got the miles. Onward and upward, one slightly-faster lap at a time.
Until next time, your slightly windswept, perpetually-chasing-the-clock friend.