A Younger Runner Again

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"We turn not older with years, but newer every day."
-- Emily Dickinson


Yesterday I celebrated my 45th birthday and became one of the younger runners again. I’m now in another competitive age bracket and have the advantage of “youth” among my new peers. Furthermore, I've decided to release myself from an earlier battle with aging; I'm now willing to sign that treaty with time.

Sure my body’s losing its firmness, but my mind’s gaining its wit. I may no longer turn heads, but I now can command a room. And I’ve been blessed to make money doing something I enjoy, yet I haven’t forgotten the value of a dollar or the clarity that can follow a sleepless night.

Last month I read this wonderful passage on turning 45 on Joan Nesbit Mabe’s blog. I think it’s partially responsible for my newfound optimism, and I didn’t have to set a world record to reach the same conclusions. My record says a world about me: a lasting marriage; a grown, fairly functional family; a decent career despite being a military wife; strong friendships from every one of my life’s stops; and a host of experiences that, at the very least, provide plenty of blog fodder.

I used to want to be a really fast runner. I used to want to be thin and pretty. And I really wanted to produce Oscar-winning documentaries and a Pulitzer Prize-winning book. I am finally at peace with who I am and, more importantly, who I am not. There is no better gift I could have given myself.

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