I Have 39 Years

It has been a tough week to start training.  My daughters, 6 and 10, have had a week off of school and it has more or less rained steadily.  Save a couple of play dates and soggy outings, we have spent a fair amount of time indoors reacquainting ourselves with old toys, making comic books, inventing contraptions with sticks and tape, and the like.  Needless to say, these activities have not included running.

This morning, a field of brilliant blue greeted me from between the rooflines.  It was sunny and clear and I was excited to get outside and run.  I chose a route around the Champ-de-Mars, the large park that stretches 780 meters behind the Eiffel Tower all the way to l'Ecole Militaire (the military school).  I say behind because I live near the Trocadero which overlooks the Eiffel Tower from the opposite side of the Seine.  My route would take me along side the great monument and through the long park, around the well-groomed rectangle and back again.

Of course, hoards of runners have the same plan with a morning like this.  It is a huge motivation to encounter countless runners, walkers, strutters, saunterers of various ages and ambitions.  As I run, tire, walk a bit, and run again, I come to think about where I am and who I am and how long I have been who I am.  I am 39, I think.  No, I have 39 years, I reconsider.

When first learning French, there are a few introductory phrases that quickly alert one to the fact that English cannot be word-for-word translated into proper French.  One of these phrases is, "Je m'appelle Christine." I call myself Christine, not, my name is Christine.  Another is, "J'ai trente-neuf ans." I have 39 years, not, I am 39 years.

I have 39 years.  I earned them all and they have all become part of me, the wear on my bones and the wrinkles on my skin, the miles on my soles and the memories in my heart.  39 years of opportunities seized and opportunities missed.  They are all mine to claim.

As I finish my less than impressive 3.5 mile circuit,  the Tower at my back, Terrapin Station buzzing in my earphones and my calves taught and tired, I feel alive and grateful. I slow myself and my 39 years to a solid, steady walk and head for home.