Perhaps it is true, that the body slows down with age. Certainly, I have been told often enough by people who tell me that they know for a fact that one cannot escape the damaging effects of time and bodily deterioration. Furthermore, these same pundits tell me, that it is the wise man who acknowledges this fundamental law of nature and adjusts his activities (eating & exercise) to accommodate the ravages of time and ward off its deleterious effects.
The truth of this struck me full in the face just two days before last thanksgiving. While I was dressing I had the misfortune of glancing at myself in the mirror. I did not recognize the fellow who was staring back at me. “Who the blazes are you? Do you know that you have an acute case of dunlop disease?” “Where did you come from and how did you get into my mirror?” Although a month of gluttonous over indulgence was about to commence, the need for action was staring me in the face. I have always believed that when you look for a reason not to do what you know you ought to do, you will certainly find it. But this time I was resolved to press forward and make some modifications to my daily routine – albeit changes.
I have rarely denied that I am somewhat delusional; so, it ought not to have been a surprise to find myself in this condition. While my wife is not to blame; she has not done much to mitigate my predilection for a corpulent profile. She is far too gracious than to suggest that I wear loafers because I might have trouble tying my shoes. Her rare comment that three helpings of desert went unheeded. My typical response went something like: “I am only having one helping, it’s not my fault the plate is too small to accommodate it.” Finally, I was ready to take responsibility for my diet and daily exercise regime, well, maybe not full responsibility.
There was a time when I controlled my weight by running 35-45 miles a week. Sadly, my running days are but a dim memory. I vaguely remembered that when I was a kid a swam on a couple of different swim teams. There is a 50-meter swimming pool at Hanscom AFB. I quickly connected the dots and decided I’d return to the passion of my youth – besides, I’ve been told that fat floats and I would be in my element. Anyway, my first day at the pool I managed to swim 400 meters – 50 meters at a time. Not to be discouraged I persevered with my aquatic endeavors; I watched my diet (somewhat) and I managed to lose about 25 pounds by the end of February. A bit less than half way to my target svelte goal, but progress nonetheless.
The problem with a little progress for a delusional fellow like myself is that it seems like a great deal more than what it actually is. Consequently, I lapsed into a maintenance mode for several months and then Kimball’s ice cream shop opened for summer. Well, I really don't have to tell what has happened – the 25-pound loss is now 15 pounds. To top it all off I turned 71 this past July and I resolved to swim 7100 meters to commemorate my birthday. Originally, I had planned to be within striking distance of my target weight when I undertook my 4 plus mile swim. But, thankfully, as I’ve already noted; fat floats. So, today I did a bit more than my target and hit the 4.5-mile marker. My wife wanted to know if I was sore. I can only say that I am glad for the improvements in Dragon Speaks – dictation saves my abused body from more abuse. Clearly, self-delusion has its breaking point.
The truth of this struck me full in the face just two days before last thanksgiving. While I was dressing I had the misfortune of glancing at myself in the mirror. I did not recognize the fellow who was staring back at me. “Who the blazes are you? Do you know that you have an acute case of dunlop disease?” “Where did you come from and how did you get into my mirror?” Although a month of gluttonous over indulgence was about to commence, the need for action was staring me in the face. I have always believed that when you look for a reason not to do what you know you ought to do, you will certainly find it. But this time I was resolved to press forward and make some modifications to my daily routine – albeit changes.
I have rarely denied that I am somewhat delusional; so, it ought not to have been a surprise to find myself in this condition. While my wife is not to blame; she has not done much to mitigate my predilection for a corpulent profile. She is far too gracious than to suggest that I wear loafers because I might have trouble tying my shoes. Her rare comment that three helpings of desert went unheeded. My typical response went something like: “I am only having one helping, it’s not my fault the plate is too small to accommodate it.” Finally, I was ready to take responsibility for my diet and daily exercise regime, well, maybe not full responsibility.
There was a time when I controlled my weight by running 35-45 miles a week. Sadly, my running days are but a dim memory. I vaguely remembered that when I was a kid a swam on a couple of different swim teams. There is a 50-meter swimming pool at Hanscom AFB. I quickly connected the dots and decided I’d return to the passion of my youth – besides, I’ve been told that fat floats and I would be in my element. Anyway, my first day at the pool I managed to swim 400 meters – 50 meters at a time. Not to be discouraged I persevered with my aquatic endeavors; I watched my diet (somewhat) and I managed to lose about 25 pounds by the end of February. A bit less than half way to my target svelte goal, but progress nonetheless.
The problem with a little progress for a delusional fellow like myself is that it seems like a great deal more than what it actually is. Consequently, I lapsed into a maintenance mode for several months and then Kimball’s ice cream shop opened for summer. Well, I really don't have to tell what has happened – the 25-pound loss is now 15 pounds. To top it all off I turned 71 this past July and I resolved to swim 7100 meters to commemorate my birthday. Originally, I had planned to be within striking distance of my target weight when I undertook my 4 plus mile swim. But, thankfully, as I’ve already noted; fat floats. So, today I did a bit more than my target and hit the 4.5-mile marker. My wife wanted to know if I was sore. I can only say that I am glad for the improvements in Dragon Speaks – dictation saves my abused body from more abuse. Clearly, self-delusion has its breaking point.
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