Phil Sanderson vs. The Walking Dead!


I became addicted to running while serving in the Marines for seven long, yet fun and adventurous, years.  I have a titanium plate in my neck and degenerative disc disease.  My doctors told me several years ago that running is not good for me, and I have to stop.  I am 46-years young, and now — thankfully to them and this damned disease of deterioration — more overweight than that which I am happily agreeable.

I remember the days when I used to eat steep hills for breakfast!  The invigoration of my muscles moving in rhythmic harmony with my lungs as they pumped oxygen to my brain.  Beautiful settings were at my command as I whiplashed past them to see them another day whenever I decided to run that same path.  My mind, my body, and my environment were all one and the same!  And the most beautiful thing about it was that I stayed fit!  Many people who were my age were already beginning to battle obesity, and an unfortunate few — I hated to see — were losing the battle.

Now I tend to wheeze at the idea of running.  I feel as though life has a way of making us its bitch and telling us in an non-other-than demeaning tone that we are no longer qualifiable for this and for that…and it only gets worse when the aging process figures in on our bodies.

Sure, running is bad for my neck and back (due to the high impact of the exercise), but I gauran-damned-tee you that letting all this excess weight pile onto my body like a bunch of liberals at an Elton John concert is not good for it as well.  What the hell am I supposed to do?…sit her and watch my ass (as well as the rest of me!) become as wide as the house?

I feel as though I have a choice, I can lay here, accepting defeat; occasionally walking around like the walking dead…or I can get off my fat ass and reclaim my life.  I have given it months of thought and have decided to do the latter.

Yesterday morning, I just jogged a laughably short distance (laughably as far as when I used to run).  I have to admit that the cool air penetrating my lungs felt as though I had taken my first sip of the famed Fountain of Youth!  But I know better.  For the Fountain of Youth is located in Florida, not Alabama.  😉  The air was 30 degrees, giving me a little bit of frost in my breath and maybe a bit of phlegm formation in my throat and chest.  But it was well worth it to me!  And I will continue to jog even further within the next few days.

Some of you reading this are probably thinking I will someday regret this.  Maybe you are right.  But for now, I would rather live my life running here and running there, than to lie down in surrender with my wide ass in the air, waiting for someone to park their bicycle.


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