Life As Plan B

As planned, I ran my 3.5 mile hilly course this past Saturday morning.
It was "planned" because my preferred plan has seemingly become un-achievable.
Running six miles without stopping.
Never mind that the preferred six-mile course is one of the most challenging in the area.

After acknowledging my diminishing strength to complete the 6 mile course without stopping, I have dropped back to my next most challenging path.
Bankhead Parkway is a relatively steep road that gains about 200 feet in less than a mile.
I ran up the hill, bopped along the relatively flat Tollgate Road for a quarter mile then down the heart poundingly steep Mountainwood drive (walking).
Mountainwood drops (or gains, depending which way you are going) about 90 feet in about 1300 feet.
It is so steep that one can easily slip and fall if it is wet. (BTDT)
Anyway, did the whole circuit without a mishap.
The party was physically challenging and I can still feel a few pokes of pain around hips and hammys.

But the psychological sense that this is but a sad substitute for the distance my heart desires to run is buried somewhere near the surface of my conscious mind.
It is time to stop whining and suck up whatever endorphin-induced ego expansion I derived from going the longer distance.
Those days are over.
It is time to stop whimpering and learn to love what is left of life.

But the sad fact is, this is not the end of seeing physical and mental abilities diminish.
This is just another brick falling out of the wall of my life.
More are sure to come.
In fact, hardly a week goes by without some additional reminder injecting itself into my perception that I cannot do some small task as well/long as I used to.
I honestly get tired of seeing this.

From this, I can see why old people become depressed.
And it gives me a better insight into the value of visiting rest homes.
But I have never been good at relating to people.
Especially old people.
And increasingly, that is me.
.