Reflexions
“The first step towards getting somewhere is to decide that you are not going to stay where you are”
——J. P. Morgan, Financier
The Art of Dodging Broccoli
Alright, picture me, a 72-year-old man with all the charm and aches that come with a life full of excuses and a serious lack of broccoli. They say hindsight is 20/20, and now that I’m looking back, I can’t help but laugh at all the creative reasons I gave myself for skipping exercise, dodging vegetables, and puffing away on those cigarettes. So let me take you on a tour through my illustrious career of dodging health like it was tax season.
The Early Years: “I’m Young, I’m Invincible!”
Back in my twenties, exercise was for athletes, right? And I wasn’t trying to be in the Olympics—I was just trying to enjoy a greasy burger, maybe with a side of fries. Every now and then, I’d think about joining a gym. But who had time for that? I was too busy working… and watching TV… and thinking about joining a gym. I told myself I’d start later, maybe in my thirties. I mean, who needs good knees when you’ve got a great couch?
The Smoky Middle: “What’s One More Cigarette?”
Then came my smoking phase, which turned into my smoking habit, which, well, just never ended. My motto was, “Hey, everyone’s gotta go sometime,” which was a convenient way to ignore the fact that every puff was putting a little more wear and tear on my lungs. I’d be out of breath tying my shoes, but that was just because the shoes were too tight… obviously. I told myself I’d quit eventually. But you know how that goes—tomorrow never comes when you’re busy lighting up.
The Big 4-0: “I’m Too Busy for Health”
By forty, I’d mastered the art of avoiding vegetables and, by extension, my doctor. Every now and then, I’d eat a piece of lettuce—usually attached to a cheeseburger. I knew I should start eating better, but life was stressful! Plus, you can’t microwave kale. My back started aching and I’d get winded on a flight of stairs, but I chalked it up to age. And I figured I had time, right? I’d start fresh at fifty.
Fifty and Beyond: “It’s Too Late to Start Now”
Oh, fifty. The excuses just got richer. I used to joke, “If I were a car, I’d be due for a trade-in.” The knees creaked, the back groaned, and my lungs? Well, let’s just say they’d seen better days. Exercise? Forget it. The way I saw it, I’d missed my window. “Too late now,” I’d tell myself while dodging the vegetable aisle. And then sixty came along, and I started giving myself a pat on the back just for thinking about exercise.
Present Day: The Grand Finale
So here I am, sitting in my recliner, every joint snapping and popping like it’s trying to start its own band. My lungs have the resilience of a used accordion. I laugh, but breathing? That’s a bit of a struggle now. My body feels like that old car that’s barely holding together, but I’m still here, still fighting with the same stubbornness that got me here in the first place.
I look at the future, and I know it’s time to stop dodging. Now I’m finally getting it: those things I put off? They matter. So, here’s to eating my broccoli, taking my walks, and saying goodbye to all the old excuses. Wouldn’t you know it, I’ve even got a kale smoothie recipe that’s not half bad. It only took me seven decades, but hey… better late than never, right?
