Monday, September 01, 2014


A question I've been asking myself for the past few days.  Where am I going?

I guess I've been thinking about this because I zipped past another birthday, number 57.  Three more and I will have to change the title of this blog.  I've never really given much thought to being on the down side of fifty and staring straight at the huge six-oh.  I frankly didn't think I would be alive this long.  I was almost right..and that is another reason that I'm mulling over where I am going with all this fitness and health stuff.

Nearly one year ago I went into the hospital due to increasing chest pains that even my noted denial couldn't ignore any longer.  It was a near total blockage of the left anterior descending artery.  This is called the "widow-maker"...the heart attacks that cause men my age to drop dead on the spot.  If I had not gone in to get it repaired, I probably would not had made it to the end of the month.Scared the shit out of me.  Scared the shit out of my wife.  On top of that problem, it was discovered that I have Type II diabetes and my blood glucose level at the time was dangerously high.

I was a mess.  A walking disaster.  I was also deeply into denial about the warning signals my body was sending to my blissfully ignorant brain.  Yet, there is nothing quite like coming face-to-face with the very real possibility of your own death.  I was sooooooooo lucky.  Even though I had abused my body for years and pissed away countless chances to do something about it; I still had one chance left.  Only one chance though.  Something deep inside told me that it was probably the last one I would get.

So I quit smoking.  Cold turkey and never looked back.  I so wish I had done it decades ago because it was the single most important thing I have ever done for myself.  My wife joined me in that achievement and now we both enjoy the pleasure of not being addicted to those damn cigarettes.  Once I rid myself of smoking, exercise became much more effective.  Diet followed with my giving up lots of junk that I use to regularly shove down my throat day after day.  I learned portions.  I learned to pay attention to carbs, fats, and salt.  I monitor my blood sugar like a hawk.  I found a doctor and see him regularly.

Easy?

Not really.  Dying is pretty easy though.

And I am not going that way....not yet....not for as many more years as I can get.


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