Walk, Don't Run

It's almost 2012. It might not seem like it if you just started something new, like the school year, but I'm about to end something big and for me, as the street doomsday men like to say, "The end is nigh."
On January 1, 2012, I will no longer be a runner. I'm giving it up for the sake of still being able to walk, bike, play tennis (gently) and do yoga 10 or 15 years from now. Maybe cord blood stem cells will return the knees and ankles of my teens to me one day, but for now, I'm preparing for the worst.
And for all who know me, yes I have wondered what I'll do with my blog; what will I do to stay fit; how will I work out my inner demons and excess energy. And yes, I am worried I'll gain a lot of weight.
As I go through the 7 stages of mourning (I'm a preemptive mourner - when I was a kid, I would cry for hours about my grandparents death even though they all were very alive in Colorado), I keep getting sucked into bargaining. I think, maybe I'll just ease up, only run once a week, only run a mile or two, only run slowly. A friend who is a physical therapist offered to look at my stride. I'm taking her up on it because hope is another stage. Maybe she'll see something I can change that will allow me to continue...
The reality is, in fewer than 4 months, while I may still sometimes run, I will no longer be a runner and, despite getting a jump on the mourning, I'm still going to be shocked.

And now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go lay out my gear for tomorrow's run.