Ah...but in my youth I would have...

Today at field__________ I found myself playing an "ageless" and competitive sport--football. I ran in for about 3 touchdowns, pulled my left hamstring, sprained both wrists, re-aggravated my bone spur, and tweaked my right Gastrocnemius muscle. You know--the calf muscle.

Still, the weather was perfect. At slightly windy conditions and a temperature of 42 degrees what could be better. Further, when my hoodie became a first down marker I knew right then and there it would be...brilliant.

The sad truth however, is that I am old, and though I played like I still had game (which of course I still do), I need the sportscreme and the pain pills afterward. I literally hobbled over to the computer to blog this entry and sit in pain even as this sentence terminates with a period.

One thing remains the same though--my competitive spirit! I still have that 18 year old killer instinct that rages to be seen, but with the afore stated after effects. In a sense then I was born to deteriorate, and ultimately die. As I or you get older we are reminded of this finiteness in a myriad of ways.

Since I have become a better candidate for the AARP I realize that I now groan for the simplest tasks. If I bend down to pick up a book from the bottom shelf I may tweak my lower back and be out of commission for a few minutes. If I walk up the stairwell to my arpartment onto the third floor--I am usually huffing and puffing by the time I hit that final stair.

Now before we become too pessimistic in our blog, just remember that you were born to die, but until then delay, delay, delay. In the process you may pull, sprain, tweak and God knows what else!

BP