Oh James, I was so excited to get some more personal narrative writing from you! It inspires me to hear more about your marathon training, as something of a later-in-life convert to athletic pursuits myself. I'm in better shape now at 36 than I ever was as a teen or in my twenties; queer gym class trauma and Autistic poor motor coordination kept me out of all games for a very long time. It's only been in the past few years that I've found the pleasure in a lifting session or a run. The farthest I've run so far is a measly 5k (in a graveyard. at night. for Halloween), but I still cherish the memory and with it, the revelation that there are new, never-before-experienced things my body can do.
My monthly comic book club just read Alison Bechdel's The Secret to Superhuman Strength. In that book, Bechdel outlines her many past lives as a "vigorous type": eras of snowshoeing, long-distance running, yoga, pilates, hiking, cycling, and martial arts. I had no idea she was so sporty -- she always struck me as a bookish, obsessive type like myself, but then again, I am capable of devoting some of that obsession to physical feats these days, too! The end of the book is more of a meditation on mortality. In her 60s now, Bechdel writes that she has finally reached the years marked by a decline in athletic ability, after many decades of continuous improvement.
I'm looking ahead to those days and mentally preparing for the fact they could come at any moment. My mom just had a knee replacement, and then her dog died very suddenly and unexpectedly at a young age, and coincidentally I recently discovered I have very hypermobile joints, which could cause me problems down the line. Long walks and hard workouts are such a refuge for me, and I always admired my mom for her religious adherence to her daily swims. Certainly staying active helps the mind and body. But there's also ultimately so much about what our bodies are capable of and how they change that remains out of our control.
I think it would be very difficult to not endure some of these changes without succumbing at times to despair. Even on the most basic level, it's harder to get by without that endorphin rush! But your story is one of incredible resilience -- as you wrote, you had the spirit of an athlete all along, because you never wanted to give up. That dedication comes through not just in your physical pursuits, but in your writing, your mentorship, the help you give to your neighbor, the way that you learn languages. It's fair to say, I think, that the athlete in you is just one expression of a strong spirit that you have always had. I think you'll probably remain a vigorous type, as Bechdel puts it, in a great many different ways for as long as it's possible. It might look different, and the loss of mobility and athletic pursuits is a huge thing to mourn. But from where I'm sitting, I can still see that same spirit in you, driving you all the same.
