Brian’s fitness journal after a brain stroke
My run this morning ended in disappointment, which is unfortunate because for most of the journey, success seemed perfectly happy to accompany me.
I was either meeting or slightly ahead of my target pace almost the entire way. Then, during the final quarter kilometer, something happened. I slipped twenty seconds behind. I never felt as though I had slowed down, but the stopwatch is a brutally honest companion and apparently disagreed with my assessment.
Still, despite the disappointing finish, victory was clearly within reach. That alone is encouraging.
I have dealt with anemia since childhood. After receiving treatment for my kidney condition, my doctor reminded me that anemia also needed attention. I was treated for it after my brain stroke years ago, and once again I began treatment in February 2026.
What surprised me was just how much anemia affected my running.
Until this year, I had accepted many things as normal. Since beginning treatment, I have noticed that I have more energy during my runs. Gradually, my pace has improved. Of course, now that I have tasted improvement, I naturally want more. Human beings are wonderfully unreasonable in that way. Give us progress, and we immediately ask whether there is a faster version available.
Although my current pace is significantly better than before treatment, improvement has become more difficult. That is hardly surprising. Running, much like life, refuses to cooperate with our desire for perfectly straight lines. Progress is more like the stock market than an elevator. There are ups and downs, good days and bad days, and occasionally days when one wonders whether gravity has become stronger overnight.
Summer has also brought additional physical activity. Lawn mowing, for example, turns out to be an excellent way to discover muscles one never knew existed. It is entirely possible that I was simply more tired than I realized.
Fortunately, patience is one of the most important lessons that running teaches. Progress never arrives in a perfectly orderly fashion. Internal factors, external conditions, and simple fatigue all play their part.
So, despite this morning’s disappointment, I remain optimistic.
The next run offers another opportunity.
And next time, I intend to remember that a race is not finished until the finish line actually appears. The final quarter kilometer, as I discovered this morning, apparently has a mischievous sense of humor.