Running Down a Dream

I’m old.

Photo by Tara Glaser on Unsplash

I used to be a runner.

When I was 17 and my only concerns were passing Algebra, gathering up the nerve to talk to the pretty girls in my class, and debating the merits of Mötley Crüe versus Def Leppard, I used to effortlessly run three to five miles a day.

I wasn’t particularly good at it. Trying to get in shape for basketball was the reason I even thought about…