I feel rather tardy in getting to this. I’ve been a grandpa for fifteen some years–hardly seems conceivable. I’m also 68 years old. I’m beginning to creak a bit, I guess, but I still run -2-4 miles/day- lift weights, stretch, ride bikes , and so on.
How is this possible? My generation’s motto was, in the words of The Who, ‘Hope I Die before I get old.’; also, never trust anyone over 30–of course we’ve more than doubled that age now. But my grandfather Harrison, whom I loved tremendously, was old when he was my age–died at the age of 72, heart gave out. Not surprisingly, since he did nothing in terms of exercise, or diet, etc, from the day he retired at the age of 65 to the day he died some 7 years later. I made up my mind right then and there I was going to do what’s right, to phrase Jerry Reed.
So I began an exercise program that persists to this day. I don’t mean to sound self righteous. On the contrary I should sound cowardly, I suppose. I don’t like the idea of dying. Don’t get me wrong. I’m really not afraid of death. I just want to experience as much life as I can before I die. And that includes my grandfather as a negative example. More tomorrow.