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This week’s piece is not about the markets per se. It’s more about you. Well, okay… technically it’s about me as a metaphor for you (those who know me may find this premise to be a little frightening, but let’s not even go there for now).

In a nutshell, the message is that every once in a while you need to test yourself in some way. Just to see “what ya got."

First a disclaimer: Ultimately today’s tale is intended to be inspirational. Nevertheless, I do recognize that there is a fine line between inspirational and self-aggrandizing. That being said, here’s the story:

When I was 24 years old I ran the opening leg of a four-mile relay. I ran that mile in 5:45. That was my personal best and will never again be touched (unless perhaps I can do it on my bike). Sixteen years later, at the age of 40, I signed up to run a mile race. I finished in 6:22. I was good with that.

While I like to run I probably don’t run as much as I could or should. This is partly due to the fact that like countless other red-blooded American males, I hurt my knee playing high school football. Still, for many years I threatened to run the Chicago Marathon. Every year I would watch the race on TV and say “I have got to do it next year." Then I would pull my “Big Book of Running” off the shelf and turn to the page with the suggested training schedule for running a marathon. And then I would remember why I never ran the marathon. Still in 2004, bad knee and all, I finally did manage to finish the Chicago Marathon.

This year I turned 50 in July. My 10-year old son recently told me, “Dad, you’re 50 now, you’re in your Farewell Years” (he has since been bungee corded to a chair and grounded indefinitely. But I digress). Early in the year I once again threatened to run the marathon just to say “take that, Father Time,” but the race closed in April and I never quite felt inspired enough before that time to sign up. And probably just as well, because in late April my knee went out again. In the past, it has normally taken about three weeks to “work itself out." Now in my “farewell years,” it was more like three months. So because of my knee I didn’t start running again until early August, and even then not very far.

Then I got a brochure about a one-mile race in my town just prior to the local parade on Labor Day. So I started running one mile at a time as fast as I could. Let me just say for the record: “Wow, is that ever an unpleasant experience.” 

Nevertheless, I resolved to run the race on Labor Day. Note I said “resolved” to run. I did not say I actually “signed up” to run. You’ve got to keep those options open, you know. First I feared my knee would blow out 27 seconds after I actually paid my money. Secondly, there was always the chance I might feel the need to sleep late that day. So ultimately I showed up on race day and signed up in person. It was a beautiful day. As I stood at the starting line I sized up the competition. I felt pretty confident that I was going to beat most of the kids. The other men and a lot of the women, not so much. Except for the woman with two kids in a stroller. I was definitely going to kick her butt. Hey folks, in the “competitive world of racing”  you’ve got to find inspiration wherever you can.

Prior to the race there were about 8 or 10 guy’s running back and forth to and from the starting line. They sort of resembled cheetahs who had been sculpted into human form. They were going to vanish from sight. In order to get a good start I got close to the front behind a guy who looked like he could really run. So as we crouched into our starting positions (most of the people around me were crouching so I felt compelled to crouch down also), when the guy announced “10 seconds to start,” it looked like this in my particular “line."

Row one: human cheetah in stretchy pants.
Row two: athletic looking guy with expensive looking running shoes.
Row three: 50-year old guy in a swimsuit with a knee brace.

Okay, we’re ready to roll!

In the first several hundred yards virtually all of my expectations were met. The human cheetahs began to disappear, the guy in front of me who looked like he could really run, really could. And I began to realize that I may have made a terrible mistake. Still, I figured what the heck, it is only a mile. How bad could it be? Some questions are best left unasked.

As I neared the ½ mile mark I realized that I was sort of towards the front of the pack and I could still see the leaders. So things seemed to be going okay. It’s not so bad running along a parade route because there are people to cheer you on. Although I found my mind a little addled, I ran as close to the curb as possible for several reasons:

1) I figured I’d get a lot of “cheers."
B) If someone accidentally steps out and takes me down I get to stop running and;
4) Other runners can only pass me on one side (sounds trivial, but if you’ve ever been passed by people on both sides simultaneously you know what I’m talking about).

In any event it was a little unnerving to see the look on some of the faces in the crowd. After enjoying watching the really fast runners go by, spectators would look back down the course to see who was coming next. And based upon the looks on their faces I can only assume they weren’t quite expecting an old guy in a swimsuit and a knee brace to be in the same zip code as the guys who just passed. So instead of “cheers” I was met mostly with silent, quizzical looks that seemed to say “Sir, do you need me to make a phone call?” Still I soldiered on.

I’m not sure what it says about me – nor do I think I really want to know – but I have never done a race of any distance where I did not at some point say to myself, “I think I’m not going to finish. I’ll just pull over on the side right here." This race was no exception. Fortunately by the time I reached that point there was less than a quarter of a mile to go. At this point there is a left turn followed by a quick right turn and a sprint downhill to the finish. I dialed it up – I’m referring here to the grimace on my face - at the end and kicked hard to the finish. Sure I had to shove one woman aside when she tried to pass me in the last 5-10 yards, but hey, a guy’s gotta do what a guy’s gotta do, right? And I swear I didn’t push her very hard.

Here’s the interesting part. After running a 6:22 at the age of 40, at the ripe old age of 50 I finished in 6:09 and took third my age group. Take that, Father Time!  I have never participated in an awards ceremony before. And I can tell you there is something about having your last name pronounced incorrectly in front of a big crowd that is well, it is what it is. Interestingly, the two guys in front of me in my age group… one guy''s name was “Dirt” and the other was “Fire,” so that was a little unnerving. Also, the guy in fourth place didn’t give his full name but I think it was listed as “G. Reaper." So it’s a good thing I never looked back.

So what’s the point of all this self indulgence? It’s twofold.

First off, the truth is that I have no clue where the market is headed next. So it doesn’t make much sense for me to waste your time with rambling prognostications about how the market is likely to fall in the near term because the month of September is the worst performing month over the past 100+ years of stock market history, but that if it doesn’t fall, then we could get a surprisingly strong rally unless of course it meanders in range due to uncertainty about the election – you see what I’m talking about here.

Secondly, when it comes to trading as well as life in general, there are the things that happen around you and then there is you. Most people spend too much time looking at the events that take place around them and don’t take enough time to look inside. So I guess the point of all of this is:

a) to encourage you to take a look inside once in awhile;
b) to take inventory of your strengths and weaknesses, and also;
c) to push yourself once in awhile to see if you can break out of your own perceived boundaries.

For me, despite the fact that I am 50 years old, for today anyway, I don’t feel a day over 49 and a half. It feels good.

Now excuse while I go look for my knee brace.      


To search for previous articles written by Jay Kaeppel, please click here.

Jay Kaeppel
Staff Writer and Trading Strategist
Optionetics.com ~ Your Options Education Site

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