From the Mid Seventies through the Nineties I began each day by getting on the Arizona Canal at dawn and jogging five miles or more. When I lived at McCormick Ranch I started at Jackrabbit Rd and ran to Camelback and back; in Arcadia I started at 48th St. and Indian School behind the Monastery and ran to 68th St. and back. I remember saying to myself back then that there would never come a time when I would stop this practice.
These days the cilia in my lungs are matted down with tar from those years when I smoked (yes I smoked even during my 10 K years which is why I didn’t run marathons).
But yesterday I went to 48th st and Indian School and ran a mile. Actually, I was wheezing so badly that I ran a bit and walked a bit, using the distance between telephone poles to determine when to switch gaits. It wasn’t much but it was wonderful.
An hour later my lungs were working like those of a much healthier person.
Right now it is 530. My computer is down for a bit and I am on my way to 48th St & Indian School Rd. My lungs are already kicking out mucous as I anticipate the joy of pounding sand. I’ve always worked out at the gym but nothing takes the place of kicking up dust.
6:30 One mile again (GRRRREAT)