The Roaring Forties

After 40 the margin for error in terms of having bad habits, bad diet, bad sleep, or bad lifestyle narrows considerably. You can have some of the vices you had in the past, but you can't keep all of them and expect to wake up every day feeling good. Even when your diet and exercise and attitude are spot on most of the time you'll wake up with a pain somewhere you can't remember damaging. 

Right now I'm in the midst of making the transition into a middle-aged man. I don't accept it, but my body isn't buying that I'm in my thirties anymore. Also, I have a three year old with all the energy in the world I'm partially responsible for. I can't wake up and not have the energy to run with him. 

But it's hard. Getting older is hard. The loss of vitality and exhuberance is difficult to accept. The sheer dampening force of pain that wraps around you and seeps into your bones like a wet blanket on a cold day is sobering. 

Moving hurts, but not moving hurts more. It's a paradox and I find the best solution is keep moving. Bear the pain of the endless workout, because once you stop it feels like death claiming you inch by inch.

I remember in the Marine Corps I had a heart issue and was put on casual duty. I was ordered not to exercise, but I couldn't stop. I told one of my fellows in the casual company I'd rather be dead than not able to work out. And I think I've always felt that way. 

I'd like to have at least a few more really intense workout cycles before I start taking it easy. Hopefully I get that chance.

I got all my hair cut today. The barber is an older WWII veteran who has a shop down the street. I walked in and he was sitting there eating a bowl of soup and watching Bill Clinton and Bill Gates talking about immigration reform. It always surprises me he's so liberal because I tend to associate older people with being conservative, but we always talk politics and agree we liked Bill Clinton, then he asks me what my name is and he calls me by my name for the rest of the haircut.

After that I went and got a couple of slices of pizza from Deli Italia and learned of the passing of Ray Harryhausen. It's the most beautiful day of the year so far and I have 7,000 words left to write for a project I'm working on. 

But I think first I'm going to get some Selenium and fish oil and start a new training cycle.  

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