Josh Jackson Author

I’ll always say it: you gotta get out there!

Life cannot be lived sitting at home. On the couch. In bed.

We all know a ton of people whose lives are lived thusly, and on some level or another, it is difficult to observe.

It’s essentially like watching someone commit suicide in slow motion. An ugly sight. I, on the other hand, choose life. My life goal is to live forever. Well, “forever” in terms of human potential.

There are a zillion “super seniors” now, and I aim to be one of them one day. Ninety-year-olds who still run marathons; 75-year-olds who power lift; 65-year-olds who pump iron six or seven days a week, benching more than their body weight.

Yes. That. I want that.

So today, in the aim of living long, I finally got back to running.

If you read my first book, There’s Always Ants, you read the chapter “I Ran Alone.” For eighteen months I staged a solo comeback from a near-wheelchair-bound state, using trail running. It worked. At the end, when finances and the brutal winter of north-central Oregon pushed me back indoors, I had built up to 12 miles off pavement, at 4-5,000 feet elevation in the mountains. In sandals. On a vegan diet.

I’m no elite athlete. I had setbacks, injuries, problems, delays. Not perfect. But successful.

Sadly, the mission ended in November 2023– more than two years now. I wanted to run again. But circumstances prevented it. I had to walk everywhere beginning in May 2024, and so running became no longer necessary for fitness. But I missed it.

Now. Finally back into a place where I can run. I spent the last several weeks settling into my new temporary digs, getting back into healthy eating and daily basic exercises, mainly for physical therapy and to get strong again. I’ve been in PT many times and I know all the basic moves, stretches, and exercises they’ll prescribe. I’m my own physical therapist now.

Today the time felt right. I did my dutiful stretches and a few warmups, threw on my new pair of running shorts (thanks mom!) and headed out.

My dear aunt showed me a little local feature the day before, a small forebay in the area’s canal system. A mile from the house and up a little hill, with a dirt and gravel path circling the water. Perfect, I’d get some distance off-pavement, which I greatly prefer as a running surface. Pavement is painful and slow.

A perfect morning greeted me, sunny and just cool enough for running. My goal wasn’t really to run, but rather simply get the distance done at any speed above a walk.

Uneventful to say the least, light traffic and zero pedestrians. I had a few twinges the whole way, randomly in various spots, but mainly my right hip and left calf. I have bursitis in my hips and hard running or doing too much hill always flares it right up. And my calves always gripe on hills, threatening cramps.

My right foot arch hurt at one point but stopped. My left hip ouched once or twice, but then quit. Some tendons here and there complained randomly. I ignored what I could.

Even so, I had to adjust several times. Oh, you think I run the same as everyone else? No no no.

I only run in sandals, even on pavement. And to do so properly, that is, run, you do not land on your heels! Your heels are your body’s kickstands, making for excellent stability when standing up. But running, you are not built to run landing on your heels, or “heel strike” as it’s called.

Our legs sport built-in springs and suspension, which prevent hard impacts when walking or running. To employ this, you simply run the way humans evolved running in thin soles or barefoot.

Forefoot strike. Or toestrike, as some say. You land on the front part of your foot, your heels barely grazing the ground. If touching it at all. This impacts the joints with little brute force. You feel like you’re running on large coil springs, bouncing along easily. But also more smoothly if you go in thin soles or barefoot.

Because without any padding, you can’t just jam your foot into the ground with each step, letting your body weight slam down over and over. Instead, with forefoot strike, your deceleration as you land on your forefoot is eased, lessening the impact. And if you do it correctly, all the up-and-down motion you see in most joggers nearly vanishes.

Your head stays stable and level, while all the action is lower, preferably from the pelvis down. Like a paddling duck, all calm above the waterline but furious action below.

And boy did my right hip gripe even so. That little rise up to the forebay, maybe one hundred feet, forced me to shift my weight to the left, when worrisome waves of pain hit the hip. But it passed or eased when I adjusted intensity or form.

At times I indeed had to adjust how my feet landed, as using the outside edge or the inside edge for the initial strike does affect what happens up the leg. When you land on the outside edge of your foot, the inside of the thigh is activated, and vice versa.

To avoid the right hip pain, I started alternating between landing my right foot on the big toe, instantly ending the hip pain. Once you know how to adjust on the fly, few pains or problems stop you.

What I enjoyed the most? I didn’t have to stop for anything. Worried about pain, sandal failure, or perhaps burning out on the hills, proved pointless. I could push through the pain. I knew how to use my calves combined with the natural ankle and foot springs to avoid using my thighs and hips to ascend. Little toe-hops got me up the hill, as they always have. No thigh or glute burn.

At the top, reaching the water, I found one of the most unusual warning signs I’ve ever seen.

Boy, they are serious about that place! If it’s so bloody dangerous, why let people in at all? What’s even more interesting is that not only do people fish the local forebays, the government actually stocks some with game fish. You’re prohibited from entering the water, even on a boat, but you can hang out on the allegedly treacherous banks and fish all day.

My fishing days are past me, at least so it seems, so my only interest consisted of making a lap around the water, enjoying the gravel and enduring the honking of a pair of annoyed Canada geese. No people, no off-leash dogs nipping at me. Lovely, sunny, and quiet.

The return made for a breeze of a jog, and a large green lawn near the end made for faster and easier running. Just lovely!

At the end, all twinges vanished upon slowing to a walk, and the day’s warmth, heading for a high in the low sixties, made for a perfect first day of February.

And a successful return to running. Well, jogging for now. The two-mile journey took 26 minutes, making for 13 minute miles. Slow! Hey, I never claimed to be an athlete. This is purely for health.

It sure looks like this return to health and fitness will go splendidly. I know how to pace myself as I progress to avoid injuries and setbacks. My muscles still remember how to run. That there’s no learning curve to deal with on top of doing the work is wonderful as well. I can just focus on progressing properly and enjoy.

With many miles of local trails to explore, most with hills, I’m sure I’ll be getting into very decent shape in a few short months. The supportive, healthy living situation I’ve found only adds fuel to the fire.

And of course every day I spend several hours in the morning working on my novel. I’m more than halfway through the first editing round, and it’s going well also. Progress all around!

With the diet I prefer, the exercise I know works for me, and being surrounded by people who are on my side, things are better than they’ve been since about 2021. I can only summarize it one way.

It’s great to be back.