I said little prayers each time I made my way around the sun-soaked track. Please don’t hit me with a ball. Please don’t hit me with a ball.
I could barely see the field from the west side of the track because the sun filtered everything else out. But each time I made the north loop turn, the soccer practice happening on the field inside the track appeared warmly lit by the setting sun. Kids yelling, high fives, long shadows.
The pain in my calf was a 2 on a scale of 10, a vast improvement from the last couple of weeks. I had just seen the chiropractor an hour before and the words health management were still fresh in my mind.
As I ran my mind bobbled between feelings of youth and feelings of age. The smell and sounds and sights were all taking me back to those days on the soccer field. The time between then and now felt as small as the lines separating each lane of the track.
And yet vague reminders told me something different – that the time in between is vast. Health Management.
Add to that wealth management, time management, upper management.
At some point in that vast space life went from something that happened to something that needed to be managed. That in order to remain in control there were certain duties one needed to carry out. I can’t remember when that point happened. In fact, I think it was a quiet wrestling match spread over years – me constantly fighting and embracing independence and all that came with it. I think I’m still embroiled in it and might be until the very end.
I had set my mind on running four miles. I became so distracted by the soccer practice on the field that I lost count of my laps. I didn’t know my pace. I was just happy my pain had dissipated enough to keep running after a few laps. I stopped just as the sun fell behind the bleachers and spilled through the openings and around the edges making the field a patchwork of light and dark.