"Running Commentary"

Tick, Tick, Tick, Tick

    I’m 75 years and nine days old.
    Whoop-dee-do!  Now what?
    On one hand, reaching three-quarters of a century seems significant. I remember a time when I wondered if I would live to be 60. On the other limb with five digits, my mother lived to be 100. When Bengie hit 75, it’s as if she was just getting started.
    And that’s a good way to look at my advanced years – I’m just getting started. There’s a big planet out there, and all I have to do is to embrace it. Make some short-term and long-term goals. Do whatever I haven’t done. Knock off those unchecked boxes on my bucket list.
    Whoa! Nelly! Down Boy! Sloooww dowwwwn!
    It’s great to think BIG, but anyone not inhaling Colorado weeds would suggest I rein in some of that enthusiasm. How realistic is it to make such big plans for someone my age?
It’s great to be optimistic and have goals; however, when you’re midstream between 70 and 80, you don’t have the same amount of energy you had even ten short years ago. Every physical activity gets harder. Your energy levels deplete faster, and some days all you want to do is to hunker down and take a long nap.
I used to laugh at my mother. She was a strong woman with a positive-plus personality; however, toward the end, Mother occasionally got discouraged  because she tired so easily whenever she tried to do any physical activity.
To which, I reminded her: “Mother! Good bleepin’ grief! You’re OLD. You’re closer to 100 than 90 – no wonder you tire easily.”  And together we would have a good laugh. But the Iron Lady never gave up. Until the end, she was able to live alone, cook sumptuous meals for her family, walk erect without a cane, and generally enjoy “the good life.” She truly cherished every day she lived.
I’m a long way from Mother’s age, but I too lack the same energy I once had.  On the bell curve of life, I’m definitely headed south. It’s like riding a unicycle careening downhill on a slippery slope – there’s no going back up to the top.
From here, it’s a one-way trip – down the mountain.
But like my mother, I’m not giving up. Now that my blood clot has dissolved, I’m running again. Virtually every morning around 6:00 a.m., when it’s pitch black and cold outside, I go for my morning run. As my strength builds, I’ll train even harder and run competitive races.
Running is good for your heart. And just as significantly, for me anyway, it’s good for your head. Never underestimate the importance of mental health, especially as we get older.
After I return home and have my first cuppa Java, I take my two boys out for their morning romp, usually a long walk of a mile or two on an abandoned field out in the country. Boulder and Rocky are still puppies – they get rammy without exercise.
All exercise and any physical activity adds up and helps. You can’t stop the aging process and all the aches and ills that accompany it. However, you can retard the process by staying active. Even walking has much the same benefit as running.
Am I tired after I exercise? You betcha! But that’s why God invented naps -- to replenish your batteries. And then I’m ready to tackle the afternoon.
I have so much to be thankful for. My mother blessed me with good genes. I have virtually zero health issues. None! Sadly, that’s not the case with others my age. I was reminded of this in a recent conversation with my son Jonathan.
Richard and his wife lived next door to Jonathan for many years and became something akin to surrogate grandparents to his children. Good people! Really like extended family. Richard is my age and we have a lot in common – we’ve both been lifelong athletes with active lifestyles.
But Richard no longer lives next door. In fact, he’s now in hospice care, receiving morphine for his pain. All because of his ticker – Richard has a bad heart and it’s not operable. Imagine – he’s 75, and now it’s only a matter of days and weeks.
I find it almost inconceivable that someone my age would die. It doesn’t fit with my sense of self – I may not have the same energy level I once did, but I don’t have any significant aches or pains. I still feel like a kid, young at heart. I truly believe I’m going to live as long as my mother.
But there are no guarantees of that. The scary blood clot I had recently? It was a whopper, extending from my groin area all the way to my ankle. Before it was detected, it could easily have become dislodged and traveled north into my lungs or heart. Pow! Bye, bye Mikey.
So, what’s the bottom line? The “now what” after 75? It’s the same old song – live your life as though you have no tomorrow because there’s no guarantee you’ll see it. Live large. Dream BIG. Go ahead and make plans for your future. Just don’t take breathing for granted. Appreciate all that’s good in your life. Like Bengie, cherish every day.
As I said last week – at birth, we’re all given a ticket embedded with an expiration date. Every ticket will be punched. Our time could be shorter than we think.
Live and love accordingly.

Note:  Michael welcomes reader comments:  Rmykl@yahoo.com