Since you’ve been gone.

It started with a murmur. The doctor said my heart was making a whooshing sound. I didn’t know what that sounded like, but I imagined it to sound like waves lapping onto shore and then being sucked back into the sea. Inconsistent and irregular but oddly soothing all the same.

Three months later, I lay on a bed staring up at gridded fluorescent lights while nurses stick tubes in me and adhere sticky things to my skin. Moments later a doctor comes in, says a few words, and pumps something into my veins. The last thing I remember is looking into my wife’s blue eyes…

“I love you 3000.”

Since you’ve been gone, I’ve been through some things. Like many people, I contracted Covid in 2020. It left my lungs a wreck. Two years later, that murmur turned into a valve repair in my heart. Now, my heart is reinforced with plastic and other synthetic material. I guess you could say that I’m not completely organic. I’m not the six million dollar man, but I’d say that I’m in the six figure territory. So since you’ve been gone, I’d like to reintroduce myself…

“Hey y’all, I’m Stewborg.”

I was once a long distance runner. I mostly loved the training process. I loved the early mornings with its cool, wet air and watching the sun sift through the mist over the pines, but I hated the late stages of the long run, sweat in my eyes and incredible hunger. I loved a good ice bath, but I didn’t like getting in. I loved that mellow song on my playlist but got irritated when my ear bud wouldn’t stay snug. I have vivid memories of Saturday morning long runs, race day electricity, bonding with fellow runners and the pure joy of crossing the finish line. And that’s where they remain… in my memory. Since you’ve been gone, I’ve retired from running marathons.

All things come to an end. This was a stage in my life that I will always cherish. When good things come to an end there are always exciting new beginnings, if you choose to view it that way. I can’t run as fast or as far as I used to, but I still have the desire to do what I love.

Every runner has a distance that they are comfortable with. We have a distance that feels cozy like cool, crisp mornings or a home cooked meal. So I’ve decided to focus on 13.1 instead of 26.2. Why? Good question. I’m not doing it to prove anything to myself. I’ve done it dozens of times. I want to do it because it feels good to me. Satisfying. I feel like the half marathon is right in my wheel house. Just enough work but not tortuous.

So here is my message to you. It’s never too late to start again. Since you’ve been gone, I’ve decided to run more and write more. I want to share my stories with you and hopefully impart wisdom or maybe make you smile. I hope you’ll check in from time to time.

Let’s live, love, and run together.

I love you 3000.