I can’t run as fast as I used to. There, I said it. And it’s OK. I’m learning to accept slower running with age.
Over the years, I’ve written quite a few posts about my late start in running, and most of them have celebrated the improvements in speed and well-being I’ve enjoyed along the way.
The title of this post borrows the famous “these go to eleven” joke from the mockumentary This Is Spinal Tap. Between 2023 and 2025, I regularly ran my hilly mile in about ten minutes. In 2026, my typical time has drifted closer to eleven.
Some of the change is simply because I’m nearly 75. Some of it reflects how I’ve been exercising this year. Together they’ve added about a minute to my regular mile.
Running is a smaller portion of my exercise schedule
For years, I have made sure to exercise at least thirty minutes each day (according to my Apple Watch). Until last year, much of this exercise involved running, with yoga, walking, and occasional vigorous dancing as the other components.
Last winter, however, I used a new small electric chainsaw to cut a series of trails around my home and spent most of the winter happily snowshoeing through the woods. Snowshoeing and trail work have kept me active, but they don’t train exactly the same muscles or movement patterns as running.
And this spring, I spent a happy month cleaning up the edges of the woods surrounding my home. While bucking and dragging small trees and limbs into brush piles is also a good workout, it doesn’t prepare me for running in the same way.
So it wasn’t surprising that when I laced up my running shoes again in June, I could tell almost immediately that something had changed. I felt a little stiffer, a little slower. When I finished my first familiar mile, my Apple Watch confirmed what my body had already been telling me: I was off my usual pace.
I wasn’t alarmed, but I was concerned. Was this simply the result of several months away from regular running? Or was it a sign that age had finally caught up with me? I had no idea whether the change was temporary or permanent, but I was curious to find out.
Increased knee aches
I’ve never believed that every run should be an attempt to set a personal record. If something hurts, I slow down. If it hurts enough, I walk.
I’m touching wood, but I haven’t had any serious injuries—or even a fall—since I started running seven years ago.
Unlike in the past, this year, my knees sometimes ache when I’m running downhill, so I’ll duly slow down. Naturally, that affects my pace.
I’m getting older
None of this is surprising. I’ve known for years that eventually age would slow me down as aerobic capacity and muscle mass gradually decrease; I just didn’t know when I’d notice it. The encouraging news is that, compared with published age-group data, I’m still doing reasonably well.
I’m not done yet
During the last few weeks, my times have already started creeping back toward ten minutes. That suggests some of this year’s slowdown came from changing how I exercised, not just from getting older.
Nevertheless, I doubt I’ll return to the days when I occasionally ran this hilly mile in well under ten minutes. That’s a little sad, and I think I’m entitled to a runner’s lament. Getting older has a way of inviting us to recalibrate our expectations without giving up the things we love. I’m still out there most mornings, enjoying the challenge of the same road I’ve been running since 2019. If my new normal is closer to eleven minutes than ten, I’m happy to accept that. After all, the real victory isn’t hanging on to the pace I once had. It’s still being able to head out each morning and run.
