Know Your Limits

I went out for my usual run this morning, but I cut it a little short. Sure, I could have pushed myself past the tightness I was feeling in my hip and made the full loop, but I thought better of it. The older I get, the more I rationalize and make the more conservative choice when the opportunity presents itself. It was not so long ago that I would push every aspect of my life to the limits, just to test them. Oh, we all should live, but also learn the lessons of life whenever possible.

When I first came to Martha’s Vineyard in the spring of 1999, I was literally living in a tool shed. Sure, it has a phone line and electricity, but it was still a 9’ x12’ tool shed. I lived there for five full seasons, sometimes deep into late fall when there was snow on the ground. Yet, it was a space that served its purpose; a place to stash my stuff and rest my head. Five years was my limit, however. Outdoor showers after the first frost quickly lose their novelty and I needed the modern convenience of running water to feel civilized.

During those first five seasons I trained for marathons. The first year I had a training partner that showed up more often than not, but usually I was on my own, running ten miles in the morning, another ten at night. The bike paths on the island allow runners to train safely at nearly any hour of the day or night, a luxury found few other places. Still, I was able to train long and hard without injury, even while working the long demanding hours of the summer season. I only slept a few hours each night, but the summer weather was energizing; the cool sea air of morning and night, bookends to the blazing daytime sun.

Though I worked hard and trained hard, I knew the season would end and I would inevitably leave the island for the winter months, waiting for the next season to arrive. The island axiom of “pray for September” signaled the end of the tourists’ siege of the island. Like locust’s ravenous plunder of crops, the tourists and visitors of August would denude the workers of their patience and test their limits of sanity. I might work ten to twelve hours each day, every day of the season, but I knew there was a light at the end of the tunnel called September.

Well, I have been living on Martha’s Vineyard year-round since 2003. One year I only left the island for 12 calendar days. I stopped running longer distances as soon as I owned the business I worked at. The number of hours spent in the office has dropped off significantly as well, for a number of reasons. I was here at the crest of the wave, when the economy was booming and people could not spend it fast enough. I have remained through the current “trough” of the economic downturn; occasionally commuting off island in order to make enough money to pay all that was owed.

While the economy might have a ways to go before everyone is able to sleep easy, the people of the island have always seemed to pull together as a community more than other places I have lived. Shop keepers give each other a knowing nod when they meet at the bank in August; they know that it won’t be long before they will have time to catch up on small talk. As the days get shorter and school starts once again, I know that I will be spending less time trying to accommodate clients’ busy social schedule in order for me to book a session. I know my limits, both physically and mentally, better now than all those years ago. We must all seek to reach that balance; if not for you, for those that you live and work with. “Pray for September.”