Sometimes the universe whispers. Sometimes it nudges. And sometimes, it lines up all the stars until you can no longer ignore what your soul has been trying to tell you.
A couple of weeks ago, I had the chance to hear my running coach, Scott McDermott, speak about his passion for triathlon. As I watched him share his enthusiasm for the sport, something stirred inside me. It wasn’t about competition, winning races, or chasing personal bests. It was about the pure joy of doing something you love. Scott’s passion reminded me of something I had almost forgotten about myself.
I love running.
Now, let me be perfectly clear. I am not a fast runner. Never have been. I am certainly not going to win a marathon, unless, of course, everyone else decides to stay home! But I genuinely love running, especially its meditative nature.
There is something wonderful about settling into a comfortable rhythm, feeling your feet meet the pavement, and letting your mind quiet. For me, running has always been moving meditation. It’s a time when life’s busyness fades away, and I can simply be present with myself, my thoughts, and the world around me. Some of my most meaningful conversations with God have happened while running along a quiet road.
For several months now, I have felt a gentle pull to start running again. Nothing dramatic, just a quiet little voice reminding me how much I used to enjoy it. And like so many things in life that require a little effort, I have been remarkably good at ignoring it.
I had all the usual excuses. I am getting older. It has been six years since my last marathon. Getting back into running would require commitment, discipline, and probably a few sore muscles along the way. Besides, I will be turning 65 in February. Surely, there are easier ways to enjoy retirement!
But the funny thing about the soul is that it doesn’t particularly care about our excuses. It knows what brings us joy, and sometimes it keeps nudging until we finally pay attention.
Then the Signs Started Appearing
In 2027, my dad will celebrate his 90th birthday. Ninety years of life, experiences, challenges, and memories. That is a significant milestone, and one I am very much looking forward to celebrating with him.
Then, seemingly out of nowhere, Facebook presented me with an advertisement for the Great White North Marathon in Stony Plain, Alberta.
For those unfamiliar, Great White North has been organizing triathlons for years. However, 2027 marks something new for them. They are introducing their inaugural marathon, and it just happens to take place in Stony Plain, the very town where my dad lives.
The date? July 4, 2027, just four days before my dad’s 90th birthday.
Now, I don’t know about you, but that certainly caught my attention. Here I was, feeling the pull to return to running after several years away, when an opportunity appeared: an inaugural marathon in my dad’s hometown, just days before his milestone birthday.
A new beginning for the Great White North, a new beginning for me, and an opportunity to celebrate my dad’s 90th birthday, all within the same week.
Some people might call that coincidence. I tend to see these moments a little differently. I believe life has a way of presenting opportunities when we are ready to recognize them. Sometimes those opportunities are subtle, and sometimes they arrive like a great big flashing neon sign.
This one was definitely leaning toward the neon sign category!
The more I thought about it, the more excited I became. But before I let myself get too carried away, I needed to have one important conversation.
The Conversation with Tina
I approached Tina and asked her a simple question. “Would you support me if I decided to run another marathon?”
Tina has been beside me through my previous three marathon adventures, so she knows exactly what that question involves. She understands the time commitment, the long training runs, the early mornings, and the occasional tired and slightly grumpy husband who has just spent several hours pounding the pavement.
She also knows that when something captures my heart, I tend to throw myself into it wholeheartedly.
Her answer was simple.
“Yes!”
There was no lengthy discussion or list of reasons why this might not be the smartest idea for a man approaching 65. She simply offered her support, as she has done so many times throughout our life together.
And just like that, another star aligned.
When My Soul Finally Spoke
What happened next surprised me.
As I began to accept that I was actually going to do this, a wave of emotion washed over me. It wasn’t something I had consciously invited or expected. It simply came from somewhere deep inside, and for a few moments, I was overwhelmed.
There was joy, excitement, gratitude, and perhaps even a little fear mixed in. But beneath all of those emotions was something much more profound. It was a feeling of coming home to a part of myself that I had quietly set aside.
I have experienced moments like this before, when something resonates so deeply that there is no need to analyze it or explain it. You simply know. Your heart knows, your soul knows, and eventually your mind catches up.
That is what happened to me.
It was as though my soul had been patiently waiting for me to stop making excuses and finally listen. And when I did, it celebrated.
I realized that I wasn’t returning to running because I needed another medal or because I had something to prove. I wasn’t chasing a faster time or trying to recapture the man I was six years ago. I was returning because running brings me joy, and somewhere along the way, I had stopped making room for that joy in my life.
That realization alone was worth the emotional moment.
Starting Again at 64
Of course, having an emotional revelation about running a marathon and actually preparing to run one are two entirely different things!
The reality is that I am starting pretty much from zero.
Yesterday, I went for a 15-minute walk and covered 1.17 kilometres. Nothing particularly impressive, especially when you consider that a full marathon is 42.2 kilometres. I could have pushed myself harder and walked farther, but I deliberately chose not to.
For once, I wasn’t interested in proving anything. I simply wanted to begin.
I have completed three full marathons: Victoria in 2017, Kelowna in 2018, and Charlottetown in 2021. Each one was a wonderful adventure, with its own challenges, memories, and lessons. I know what it takes to prepare for a marathon, and I know what those final kilometres can feel like when your legs are tired, and your mind starts questioning your life choices.
But I also recognize that the man preparing for the Great White North Marathon is not the same man who stood at those previous starting lines. I am older, hopefully a little wiser, and perhaps more appreciative of the journey itself.
My goal is not to run the fastest marathon of my life. I’d be happy with a respectable finishing time, but that isn’t what is driving me. I want to arrive at the starting line healthy, prepared, and excited. I want to enjoy the training, listen to my body, and rediscover the meditative experience that drew me to running in the first place.
Most importantly, I want to cross that finish line with a smile on my face, even if my legs have an entirely different opinion about the experience.
The Warrior Spirit Never Retires
One of the six guiding pillars of the Shin Dao philosophy is Embrace Your Warrior Spirit. For me, being a warrior has never been about fighting battles or conquering other people. It is about having the courage to embrace life, challenge our self-imposed limitations, and continue growing regardless of our age or circumstances.
At 64, preparing to turn 65, I could easily convince myself that my marathon days are behind me. After all, I have already completed three. I have the medals, the memories, and the stories to prove it. Why put myself through all that training again?
But then I have to ask myself a simple question. Why not?
Who decided that turning 65 means I should stop challenging myself? Who decided that adventure, physical achievement, and personal growth have an expiry date?
There may come a day when running a marathon is no longer something my body can do. I understand that. Life changes, our bodies change, and wisdom includes recognizing our limitations.
But that day isn’t today.
Another guiding pillar of the Shin Dao is Develop Your Body. I believe our bodies deserve our attention, care, and respect, not because we need to look a certain way or meet someone else’s expectations, but because our bodies allow us to experience this incredible adventure called life.
For me, returning to running is an opportunity to honour that belief. It is a chance to reconnect with my physical self while also nurturing my mind, heart, and spirit.
And who knows? Perhaps these old legs still have a few adventures left in them!
All the Signs Aligned
Looking back over the past few weeks, I can’t help but smile at how everything came together.
First, Scott McDermott reminded me of the passion and joy that comes from participating in a sport you love. Then I felt that quiet longing to lace up my running shoes again. Facebook showed me an ad for an inaugural marathon in the very town where my dad lives, taking place four days before his 90th birthday. Tina offered her support without hesitation, and finally, my soul responded with an unexpected wave of emotion that told me everything I needed to know.
Was it all coincidence? Perhaps. Was it divine timing? I like to think so.
But maybe the most important part of this experience isn’t whether the universe arranged these moments. Maybe it’s that I was finally willing to pay attention.
I think we sometimes become so busy living the lives we believe we are supposed to live that we forget to make room for the things that genuinely make us happy. We become comfortable in our routines, find practical reasons to avoid challenges, and slowly convince ourselves that certain adventures belong to an earlier chapter of our lives.
I don’t believe that has to be true.
I don’t need to run another marathon. Nothing is missing from my life that another finisher’s medal will fix. I have already experienced the satisfaction of crossing a marathon finish line, and I have nothing to prove to anyone.
I simply want to run another marathon because running makes my heart happy.
And I think that is a pretty good reason.
The Road to July 4, 2027
So here I am, a 64-year-old man, starting again with a 15-minute walk and a dream of crossing another marathon finish line.
Over the coming months, I will gradually rebuild my fitness, strengthen my body, and hopefully rediscover the rhythm that once made running such an important part of my life. There will undoubtedly be difficult mornings, sore muscles, moments
