My 50th year has not been my fittest. So far, I’d say I peaked at about 48 and a half. This is not to say I will not peak again, just not right this second.
The fun thing is I went for a wee run on Monday. It was about 3.5k. Now those of you who have ever stoped running and then done 3.5k a few months later may wonder, “How could that ever be FUN?”
It was fun because I ran with my kid.
My almost 19 year old son has not, thus far in his life, been much of an athlete. He’s a pretty good downhill skier and an excellent amateur stage actor. He’s a bright funny young man. I heard a rumor that he ran 5k one night while trying not to study for finals. So I asked him, “Hey, wanna run with me tomorrow?” and he said YES.
I remember when I was about 20 and my mom wanted me to learn tennis. She paid for some lessons and was so thrilled to have me on the court with her while she whupped me. I don’t think I quite understood her thrill until that run.
The run itself was unremarkable, but the joy of me being active with my adult kid was pretty special. It’s is now officially one of the numerous documented perks of being fit at midlife.
(Did you like how I did that? Book promo. BANG)
And for those of you who think you raised a couch potato, this is also an example of how you just never know what will happen in the young adult mind.
I’m looking forward to more.
Come run with me, says Shelby