Here's a shot of my family abode. Built in 1950, it's the Mueller homestead in Wisconsin. Still the place my parents call home, the only house they ever owned. My bedroom is the same, some minor updates but still the "crib" of my youth. Used to keep an old, outdated full size TV in the closet. I'd stay up late, with the volume low, and watch science fiction movies on one of the two channels offered in our market.
I'm back there now, not so much reliving the past as trying to understand the future. My parents are older and my dad is having a rough time recovering from hip replacement. Yesterday's trip to my brother's in La Cross was a struggle. I'm questioning what impetus ignites us from the inside and what keeps us pushing as the years rush by.
Have to admit I've lost the fire in the belly for training and racing. I have more pounds around the middle, and fatty fat fat has been drinking too much wine over the past several weeks. I'm still churning out 7-milers each morning here in Wausau, but it's methodical and without enjoyment.
It's possible that the hot weather in Florida will tone me up and fire the engine, or maybe it will be the move back to North Carolina, where cool mountain runs will reinvigorate the spirit.
Right now I really don't know. I see my father struggle and observe the limited will to succeed. How will my inner constitution respond over the years to come? Will I retain the push factor, or succumb to a lesser, more passive place in life?
I won't pull punches here, I'm stuck in a strange place. Some good things and bad things all spinning around inside like a blender.
But life is often like that. We put one foot in front of the other and march forward. And soon we'll find ourselves in another place on another day and we'll start the process all over again.