Running every day? It’s a gift every day!

It’s not exactly the easiest days for me at the moment. My great-uncle Helmut is 97 years old. Up until a few weeks ago he was basically still very fit, but slowly but surely his body is becoming much weaker.

I have a feeling he probably won’t last much longer. Uncle Helmut had a wonderful life. He was my grandmother’s eldest brother, and therefore her confidant. Uncle Helmut has a special gift, actually two:

• He is an incredibly good listener and a razor-sharp advisor.
• In addition, he is always a role model when it comes to not losing sight of the essentials. Among other things, for nature, and to move in nature.

No day is taken for granted for him, every day is a gift for him. He has experienced too much, he had to let too many people go.

His wife left almost 30 years ago

What made Uncle Helmut sad for a long time is the loss of his wife. She has been dead for almost 30 years and he misses her every day. 30 years alone, with himself and his thoughts, we often talked about that. “The bad thing about old age is that you become more and more lonely. Everyone is gone and I miss those people. Most of all, I miss my wife. When her heart stopped beating back then, mine stopped too, somehow,” he told me over dinner a few years ago.

There was blood and liverwurst. A blue cheese, a beer and rye bread. His dinner almost always looked like this. And when I was with him, I enjoyed it. Under normal circumstances I would never eat black pudding. At these dinners, one thing was always the main topic: The gratitude to be able to experience every day, even if it sometimes hurts.

Uncle Helmut’s attitude towards life inspires me every day

From time to time we made a little trip. Once in the Saarland, we were also on the island of Fehmarn. We spent a lot of time in nature there, and walked on the beach for a few hours. Uncle Helmut enjoyed it so much that he forgot the pain in his legs. Suddenly he no longer needed a cane, let alone a walker. Every minute of movement, every hundred meters was a gift for him. And since the week together on the island, it’s been the same for me.

When I start a run in the morning, I don’t have to beat a bastard. I’m just thankful that I can and am allowed to walk. That I can feel nature, the seasons, the weather as it is and is coming. And I always have Uncle Helmut’s words in my ear: “We forget how much we actually have. We don’t see how thankful we have to be because it’s all there. We sometimes even forget to breathe.”, and I see him smiling. And take a deep breath.

Uncle Helmut is a gift, running is a gift

I know that maybe it’s not fair, but when I look at Uncle Helmut I often think to myself: The man has experienced so much, he had to fight so much and exercise in the fresh air was always so elementary for him. He pulled through. Come what may, movement always came first for him. And we sometimes whine that we can’t conquer our weaker self. That we can’t pull ourselves together. And to be honest: I didn’t make it for a long time either. For me, Uncle Helmut is a great gift. Running – since I’ve known his attitude, since I adopted it – is the same. These days Uncle Helmut has to fight another fight. With himself. He has to decide whether and how things will continue for him.

And I’m sure he’ll remember his own words.

And if not, I’ll do it for him.

That’s how it works.

Read all of Mike Kleiß’s columns here.