In October 2009 I climbed off the couch. I stretched and stretched and stretched. I psyched myself up. I recalled days of yore when I ran over hills, across meadows, and around the asphalt track again and again and again and again.
I planned my course carefully. A mile to a mile and a half would be plenty for Day 1.
Four-tenths of a mile later I gave up my plodding jog, and I walked. What was going on? Where had Unseth gone? Or, what had I become?
A year and a half later, I have not run faithfully. I have not completed a marathon or a half marathon. But I am running. Not as fast as 30 years ago. These days I aspire to attain my old jogging pace.
I yearn to live independently 50 years from now. Check in on me in 2061, and you can see how I’m doing with that goal.
I cannot see 50 years ahead, but I do know that this morning my pulse was the lowest that I have ever measured it. My couch potato pulse in 2009 was 70-75 beats per minute. This morning, 49.
We are fearfully and wonderfully made. If you’re wondering, life is better off the couch!