My father is a runner. He has always been a runner. He turns 78 this month and still thinks he’s a runner.
When he was young and “in his prime” as he would say, he’d log every single run – mileage, heart rate, pain index – using graph paper and his trusty Zebra pen.
We trained together years ago for a marathon. (The fastest, flattest marathon in the country, by the way, in case you might get the idea that I am an athlete. I am not.)
It was 1994 and our goal was simple. Finish. No PRs, no split times. Just finish.
We trained for months, mostly trail running on conservation land in my hometown of Fitchburg, Massachusetts, sometimes taking to the back roads of the Montachusett region for long runs.
The rules were few (No whining. No quitting.) but my father’s capacity for coaching cliches was endless. (“What goes up must come down” was a favorite when we tackled a hill.) I usually responded with a snort. Now, as I look ahead to 2017, I am reminded of another runner-ism: “There’s always a good mile ahead.”
No matter what 2016 has left in your lap or taken from your heart, it’s good to remind ourselves that there is always hope.
Michele Babineau can be reached at mnuttle@ledgertranscript.com