Yesterday my sister mentioned off-handedly that her son was at home recovering from a wisdom tooth extraction.  Lovely, I thought to myself. I remember the experience quite well, and it’s not one that I am keen on repeating, Forcing teeth from your skull is best performed when you’re young and more repairable. But the additional data point in this event was that my nephew is now an adult– something that at times can defy my unscientific personal definition of time. As in: The Nephew and the rest of the young Hallinans are supposed to remain at a certain fixed age. Maybe he is forever 14 years old and tinkering with radio controlled cars. And I am supposed to remain a young adult operating under an anonymous age. My hair will never turn gray, my lower back won’t suddenly go on strike after I ask it to perform quotidian tasks that should no give no reasonable body pause.  We’re all just going to continue to move through space until at some point we’re slid into a box. 

Intellectually I know that my delusions are only fantasy. I was reminded of this again when a good friend was in town for the long weekend. When we first met, we were both distance runners living in different countries on the African continent. As such meeting up with the bonus excuse of doing a distance race was never a question, and indeed I have logged many miles with her on three continents. The first time we met was about 13 years ago, and the ensuing years and distance have put us in the same space with less frequency. This is another thing I do not enjoy about the price of typical life and advancement.

My friend is still a distance runner, and as such we both knew that this weekend would include at least one long run through the city (years ago she did the Rome Marathon). And right now, Rome is absolutely perfect for running. The fall mornings provide just the right balance of cool and low humidity– and of course making your way out just before sunrise allows for a more intimate encounter with all of the sites. I thought about all of these things, and then reflected on my own running plan these days. If it were just up to the scenery and my cardio conditioning, I know that I could run for miles and miles. But other factors have a vote, and it is for this reason that I knew my body would not be happy with me if I tried to go all out.

The process of aging hits us all differently.  You only need to scan your body to remind yourself of this….once you have exited your mid-30s (I would say). And even then, the scan is not necessary. You stop for a brief moment and I guarantee some part of your bag of bones will be talking to you.

As we used to do all of those years ago, we set out from my apartment early on Saturday. I had already only agreed to doing a 5K portion of her planned run, but even then on Friday night I had not fully committed to joining her. I was exhausted from my Friday (this is a now recurring, end-of-week thing), and I could not yet know what my digestive system would be doing until I woke up on Saturday. I know that this is more information than you want to read about me, but it’s just another part of growing older. I can’t just push it off to the side like a bunch of clothes on top of my bed. My body is squarely in charge, and if I treat it like I’m still some young(er) adult, then invariably I will pay the price. Nobody likes to be darting into a Papa Gino’s all sweaty with no money, begging to use the bathroom and promising that later on you will buy pizza. Because your body suddenly changed its mind.

But here we are. Old person stuff.

But surprisingly I woke up on Saturday morning feeling pretty good. A quick check of my bones and my innards and I knew that this would be a perfect opportunity to go for a run. So I shimmied into my workout gear and grabbed my sneakers. After a coffee we made our way outside into the quiet dark of morning. 

A huge part of me wishes that I could have made it for what ended up being a 10 mile-ish run for her. Indeed, there are so many great things to see and distance runs are one of the best experiences ever for ironing out your brain and remembering that the mind-body connection is super important. 

We ran along Villa Borghese, keeping to the streets where lights were on that more or less provided a sure path. We passed along the modern artwork of the lobsters currently adorning Via Veneto while also taking in the centuries-old fountains like that of Bernini’s Triton and the Boat Fountain in front of the Spanish Steps (created by Bernini’s dad, of course). In the morning as well as the evening, the light in a clear sky is pure magic. Wherever you happen to find yourself on the planet, it is almost as if you’ve gained temporary access into a parallel universe. Here we were able to teleport as such with the run. And we had a great time exploring too, working our way into Villa Borghese once it got light enough that the streetlights switched off.

It was at about the 2.5 mile mark, shortly after climbeing the Spanish Steps that I bid my friend farewell. I left her at the overlook onto Piazza del Popolo and I started to plod my way home. I thought about how I missed our long runs together— but like my nephew’s wisdom tooth experience, my body and brain reminded me that I wasn’t exactly a spring chicken anymore. When I finally got back to the house, my watch said that I had run somewhere north of 4 miles. A rarity for me these days. It felt great, but even still for the rest of the day I could feel the creaks of my body reminded me of the outing.

I’d say that life— especially as you grow older— is a never ending negotiation between taking advantage of each moment while compromising with the reality of where you are at. And there is no clear guidance for any of this—you just have to go on the trust that you’ve been doing all of this life living long enough to know that you’re doing the right thing. I’m not even sure if that exactly makes sense— but these days it is my measuring stick. I’m still always striving to not get too entrenched into whatever mould I have formed for myself—but at the same time I can tell that I am giving myself more permission these days to opt out if I just don’t have the energy.

I had a great weekend filled with October outings, reunions and indeed remembrance for some of my most treasured memories. As you get older, those opportunities indeed feel fewer and farther apart than when you were younger. Like the aging body, these are also the moments that remind you of the passage of time, and that none of us are getting any younger. Nor are we where we once were even 10 minutes ago—nevermind 10 years. It’s a funny thing to reflect upon, but these days I do it while remembering that the sum of all my experiences have nudged me to where I am today. If that is what you’d call a cost, then indeed it is one that I am grateful to have paid.  

I hope in the next 10 and 20 years, we are still out running in unknown places. Or even walking. Whatever comes, I know that it’s just a matter of time when this moment will only be a blink away.