Switching from running to mostly walking has been quite an adjustment.
But, then again, not really.
You see, the last few years of my professional running career, I could hardly wait to be able to slow down and enjoy the journey without feeling guilty. Without feeling like I was “getting behind” or “not training hard enough”. I felt like I was living with the perpetual stress of the mantra of “MORE MILES’ and “FASTER”. I was burnt out, both physically and mentally.
But, even though switching to walking came as a relief in most respects, it took a while to adjust to a slower pace, a slower attitude, and a slower lifestyle.
Without an important race – one that could determine my fate on the US National Team – looming on the horizon, I had to really search for meaning in my miles. Yes, there was still satisfaction in hitting my daily goal of 20 miles, and yes, there was still reassurance that I could continue to (mostly) eat what I love without the risk of blowing up like a Macy’s Day Parade float, but the PURPOSE of my daily miles became vague and, if I’m honest, somewhat pointless.
I started creating “Projects” – yearly mileage goals that I would post updates daily on social media. This helped for a few years. But, eventually, that became mundane and, frankly, pretty mind numbing. I found myself sinking into a bit of a depression. All of this was exacerbated by lockdowns, the stress of taking care of my dying mother, and worst of all, the crushing grief that came from her eventual death.
Truly, I was lost.
What does a middle-aged retired athlete do? Yes, I had an active law license to fall back on, and for a time, I zealously took up political activism (all while getting in my 20 miles per day), but that didn’t fill the hole left by the loss of a life I loved – purposeful hard training and the adventure, world travel, and great food that came with it. I physically craved an older, wiser, but less extreme version of the life I loved, and lost.
Was that even possible?
I searched. And I searched. I read and watched documentaries. I traveled. I cooked, ate, and tried to write about it. But nothing felt right. It all just seemed rather pointless.
Then Tim and I started hiking around the UK.
Turns out, I LOVE hiking. Growing up in the high desert mountains of West Texas, I had only really ever experienced HIKING – scary wildernesses, predatory animals lurking about, and the almost absolute necessity of camping if one wanted to do more than an out-and-back day hike.
In the UK, you can hike from beautiful town to town, spending the night in every type of accommodation, from pubs to seaside resorts to 5 star country houses. And in between, eat the most fabulous food imaginable.
Yes, the most fabulous food.
So what started out as a running blog that very quickly morphed into a food blog, is now a…what? Well, I guess it is really just more of the same. But more grown up. Slower, and hopefully, more thoughtful.
Thank you for joining me – or sticking with me if you have been here for all these years. The only thing better than hiking and eating is sharing it.
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