Killing Yourself For Health
Two days ago I was diagnosed with high blood pressure. I wasn’t really surprised because I could tell something weird was going on with my body the last year or so. I’ve been frequently tired, my heart seems to skip a few beats now and then, I get dizzy every so often, and I’ve reached, as my doctor so eloquently put it, “the magical age of fifty.” And so now I see the immediately need for more exercise. I should get this old body back in shape. Drop the flab and get back the toned and tight body of my earlier years. Become once again that lean, mean fat burning machine I was when I got married some 24 years ago. Re-create the Greek god Adonis physique that…. Aw, shucks, I need to drop about twenty pounds and hope my gut decides to recede just a bit so I can see my toes again. That’s all I ask. I saw a young man today on the drive in to work who seems to share my need and quest for health. He was dressed in what I’m sure is expensive bike riding clothes, riding what I’m sure is an expe