It was mid 2016, I was frustrated by my mysterious lack of performance. It was perplexing as I had a routine of fitness going back decades. My teammates could always count on me. I was consistent. I figured that I’m just being a weenie and not putting forth the effort. At the start of one particular training run with Jeff Sona, I was pissed. I am sick and tired of my shitty and lazy efforts. Damn it, I’m going to run today! It was just just supposed to be one of our normal Saturday training runs, but not for me. I was just sick of my f ***ing lazy runs. Let’s put an end to this. I gave an effort as if I was in some far away country representing the USA at the olympics. With this effort, I was keeping up for a change! Finally, all my damn laziness was coming to an end! Then I kicked a root and went spralling down on the trail. A little painful but nothing new. That happens from time to time, except usually that happens to me about once a year. Jeff gives me a hand up. I’m not too beat up, let’s go. We run and talk like a couple of school girls, like we usually do. In an unusual twist though, Jeff is out talking me. This is because, while he is just tooling along, I am pulling out all of the stops and determined to put an end to all of my lazy, pussy runs. I kick rock and go sprawling. Well shit happens. Jeff gives me a hand and off we go, but he is still doing most of the talking. I am concentrating. My lovely, soon to be wife comes along on her bike while we are now running on the easy flat trails along the river. I kick some unnoticeable lump on the ground and bury my face in the dirt, badly scratching my glasses and bloodying my nose. Three times in one run, more than would be expected in several years. As Jeff gave his usual encouragement, I busted out crying and said “I just gave you everything I had!” Which I did. I was bawling. Mary and Jeff both knew, at that moment, as did I, something was seriously wrong.
It is funny how I started to write a completely different story, and this is what came out.