I told my wife I wasn’t doing well this morning. She asks if I think it’s a cold or flu or COVID again. No. I ate several Chips Ahoy! cookies. She reminds me there’s also a Ding Dong missing from the box of snacks for the kids. Thank you. I appreciate that. Yeah. I’m not doing well. I contracted COVID and subsequently lost a week of work outs and walking. The lethargy that afflicted me for the next week didn’t help either. So, I’m back at it, but not proud. I’ve given into short-term thinking and eaten things I shouldn’t have. I’ve been sore and tired and said one work out won’t be missed. I’m not proud of myself. I’ve done better.
I had the same conversation with two friends recently. Both around my age. Dave bicycles and eats right. Jeremy has improved his diet and is also back to his old Navy work outs. No gym on the ship so pull ups are done on pipes. Push-ups are done with feet on stairs to build muscle. Now he’s finding ways to be fit without a home gym using the features of his home. Good for him. Two unrelated calls brought up fitness and the same challenge. We can try to stay healthy and fit, but we can’t outrun old age. My right side reminds me of this as my wet clothing gives up heat to evaporation in the February air. I think to myself how this climate is less than satisfactory for humans as I walk and watch the turkeys cross the road ahead. Their purple and red feet trod the freezing tarmac and see no relief in the snow as they spy me and scurry up my neighbor’s snow-covered front yard. They offer no complaints. No worries about their age. No crying about being cold. Their only thought is food and survival. I like them.
My jeans no longer feel cold. My bruised body parts less sore. I’ll soon be in the warmth and comfort of home. One more lap around the neighborhood is nothing. Making the right food choice is easy. Getting up off the couch and doing one more set of curls or 30 more sit ups is a simple choice. Somewhere in the world someone is waking up to war. Somewhere in the world today a man has been given the news he has cancer. Somewhere a woman has lost her child. “I’m not changing my diet, it’s too hard” seems like a weak proclamation to me. “It’s too cold and icy to walk” is but a feeble excuse of a lazy man. I am walking to return to my safe and secure home. To a family that loves me. To people free from illness and disease. To home where tomorrow has the possibility to provide me with a day greater than today. Where tomorrow is a possibility.
Andrea hands me a bag of mini powdered donuts and asks me to “Open for breakfast Dad!” Sure. You can have a donut. Your heart is not mine. I’m going to snack on grapes. The choice is easy to make since my head has been recalibrated – and I am thankful for it. I have been given a gift. I live in security. I live in comfort. I am surrounded by love. Compared to some my life is hard, but looking out the window today I see my life is easy. How can I tell you I cannot exercise? How can I tell you I “just slipped on my diet a little”? No. I will not give into short term thinking. I will get off the couch and make my muscles hurt. I will continue to shun the fat filled garbage food. I have been given a gift and I appreciate it.
I see from on my back deck the snow hangs like rubber as the day warms. The turkeys have come to feed. No complaints about the cold. No complaints about body aches or age. Just beauty and persistence. I cannot outrun old age, but I can persevere and appreciate what I’ve been given. I will not waste it.
