Father Time Has Presented The Bill
Misogi reality is kicking in, as my challenge appears to be in deep conversation with Father Time. I’m due to run the New York Marathon 39 weeks from today. It’s a true misogi, as I haven’t completed a marathon before. I’m 67 and not exactly Eliud Kipchoge in stature or athleticism. I can complain that I have missed a month of training with the heavier-than-usual UK bout of winter flu hitting me hard. My knees hurt around the clock. I can add up many small obstacles and say my misogi reality looks bleak.
The harsh reality is that Father Time is undefeated. Looking in the mirror, I know that thought is affecting me. The old saying goes, ‘Two certainties in life are death and taxes.’ Being an avid reader of the financial press and observing what’s happening in US politics, I’m not sure about the taxes part of the saying. But death? Without doubt. My thoughts can drift: How do I navigate the road from here to death?
Commonsense Advice
Without realising it, two people have gotten under the skin of my misogi reality in the last month. The challenge is me saying that I won’t accept the inevitable that quickly, despite my body protesting. As long as I can keep challenging myself hard, I can have at least some pretence that I have a say in my fate. I can maximise my healthy years if I stay active and keep pushing. As I’ve said many times, I don’t fear death. But I would find it hard to be incapacitated due to poor health. The science is clear: regular exercise does wonders for healthspan.
I have been told by entirely rational people that I should think about exercise in a long-term sense. Do I want to be running and going to the gym in my seventies and potentially eighties? And if that’s the case, is my misogi reality that I should drop the brutal challenges? Thirty-nine weeks of hard training and a major marathon may leave a permanent mark physically, one that may affect the next years.
The mental high and physical buzz of exercise are core to me. I worry about my world shrinking, about having fewer choices as Father Time strips them away from me. I immensely enjoy this phase of my working life, where I can support, mentor, and advise smaller businesses. The variety and intellectual stimulation fulfil me without the grind that decades of long working weeks served up. I like exploring new areas, such as music and writing. It’s all good so far. But I live in fear of my physical choices being taken from me.
Misogi Reality – Pain
The truth is my body hurts a lot of the time. During exercise, I largely feel great. I need an extended warm-up in my runs before my knees feel okay. But exercise is a buzz. The downside is that often, I’m kept awake by knee pain. In the morning, I move like an ironing board, my body painfully unfolding from bed. Post-exercise aches and pains can last two or three days. I can often start a training session while still hurting from the last session. My misogi reality looks like a long road of high discomfort.
People reading this think, “You are supposed to recover fully before training again.” I know. Using today as an example, my body hurts from a treadmill session two days ago, but my HRV data tells me my readiness is high. The engine is well-tuned, but the chassis is falling apart. That’s my reality. If I waited for pain-free days, then my fitness would sharply decline. I know this from my last month of flu-forced layoff. The aches and pains left me, but my TrainingPeaks fitness score plummeted. Age makes “no pain, no gain” a harsh reality.
This is my misogi reality, too. The whole misogi idea is to attempt a challenge that’s tough to complete. If you think you can do it, then you are cheating, in effect. A marathon is undoubtedly a misogi for me; the odds of finishing are well under 50%. Sometimes, I wonder about the odds of getting to the start line. It recently occurred to me that I trained for a marathon when I was around forty and pulled out on the advice of a knee specialist when an MRI scan showed bone bruising around my right knee. So why go again 28 years later?
Make A Choice?
Now, I have had this bucket of commonsense tipped over my head by two people I listen to carefully. Do I want to be training when I’m 80? Damn right, I do. Yet I balance that rationality against my fear of having my exercise options taken away before I’m ready. I get it; none of us get to choose. Father Time serves the subpoena when he wants, not when we want. I can make a very rational case to myself that a weekly 5k run and a few sessions at the gym are a great way to keep myself healthy for as long as possible. So why torture myself with almost impossible challenges? Many chapters can be written on that one, a minefield of psychological complexity that has made me who I am. For some reason, the simple road has not been one I’ve chosen that often in life.
I will push on for now. My misogi reality is that I will likely fail in my attempt to run a marathon at the age of 68. The questions are: What long-term physical damage might I incur in the effort, and what will the psychological damage be if I take the more conservative approach to lifelong exercise? At some stage, I need to make a choice. But not today; I’m off to the gym.