April 24 reflections in Old

Today I called my oldest brother. He sounded like the dead waking up when he answered the phone. He is 74 and never exercises, but fortunately he is not obese because he does not eat enough to be so. I want to help him live as long as he can the same with other family members, but you can’t tell him shit so I accept it. He made some comments about dying and nobody knowing about it for a few days or whatever. I think he got that idea for me because I had mentioned that before. I told him our sister would notice something was amiss because they often talk. But I told him I have thought about that. The idea of my not being close to anybody. Single man of 68 rarely talks to his neighbors. I think the only time one neighbor sees me is when I’m in my kitchen and they can see through the kitchen window. It’s a very horrible thought to die in the body rots, and the only reason anyone will know about it is because of a horrible stench coming from that house. But the house is closed up at this time of year, so it might even be over a month before anyone would notice my being dead. That is very dark, but this post does not continue to be so.

Recently, I have been pushing myself to use the treadmill for longer and longer periods. I got this treadmill a couple months ago and I have found it delightful. It can go up to 10% incline, and the deck is wider and longer than other machines. I can move my arms quite freely. The running surface or walking surface has a bit of a give to it a slight bounce. I seem to get injured easier than in the past with workouts so I have to be careful and not overdo it. The day before yesterday, I walked for an hour with a faster speed than before, and I felt good. No little injuries. Cautiously, taking a day off. I was going to take another day off from any exercise But my body made me do it. My body can be like a dog that wants to go for a walk so I have to unleash it and let it go. Put on the headphones put on the tunes and I made the treadmill go faster than I have ever gone and at a 3% incline, which was very good for pushing myself a little more. I ran a little bit which I have not done in a long time and I had to laugh at myself doing it. But I did it. You see Scott you can still do it. 30 years ago, I was running long distance. Then foot injuries made me stop and I was glad I could still walk. I have dreams of running literal, running in my dreams. I love those dreams. Tonight I thought of how my youthful self was so active and I talked to that guy. I brought him forward in time to be with me and he coached me and told me you’re doing good. hey old Scott, you’re doing good. Keep at it. my younger self gave me memories of the roads I used to run on. What it was like to breathe so hard and so free and how healthy was despite the abuse of alcohol at that time. The memories and the younger self made me feel energetic and strong.

Afterword, I remembered how so many times long ago I lay on the floor, gasping for breath, begging my heart to not stop because it was going so slow from being so incredibly drunk and high. That heart kept going. It let me pass out and by the time I woke up, it was almost back to normal, and I thanked my old friend for not having a work stoppage. I thought about my heart tonight. I had a physical exam a few months ago, and they said my heart was good and strong. I felt like muttering yes despite the abuse I put the poor bastard through in the past. It’s been a loyal, good heart. These days, I’m thankful to my heart. I think of my lungs despite the abuse I gave them with so many toxic substances they are still going strong and that is something of a miracle to me. Despite all the crap I inhaled in the factory according to my doctor, my lungs are good. Despite so much abuse, my lungs are still good. I think of my organs as individual entities and I think them and I apologize at times for the abuse I put them through. Hey liver, sorry about all that shit food I ate and the alcohol and those poisons I put in my body. Thanks for not giving up on me and I’m trying to do the best I can now to take care of you and your fellow organs. I know, with age people have skin issues, the skin sags, and wrinkles. I can see it happening in me. It’s not as bad as with other people, my age. I am grateful. I have an attitude with my body of hey guys since you all put up with my bullshit for so long and my abuse I am going to do all that I can to take care of us all. How do you guys like the fish oil? Anti-oxidants anti-inflammatory foods. I hope y’all like that. Hey guys, I heard that tart cherry juice is very good for a person going to order that in my next SS check. Like I said, I owe you guys for not giving up on me for not dying on me. With gratitude, I’m going to try to take the best care I can in this late stage of my life. This way, if I end up dead alone, the treadmill will probably still be going, and despite my dying some corner will say wow that son of a bitch tried to take the best care he could of himself.

I live a life filled with gratitude these days. I look forward to another birthday in a few months and I will be full of gratitude for making it to 69. Looking back, I wish I could’ve had gratitude for reaching every year of my life. Every year. My parents told me I almost died of spinal meningitis at 18 months. At two years old, I wish that I could’ve been going. Hallelujah I made it this far. And the same thing for every year because these days I often read about people not making it to live to be two years old or 20 or… so many years so many ages, I have lived past. A celebrity dies, and I think goddamn I lived longer than that guy. There is no joy about my living longer than them. It’s a matter of gratitude and wow, did I ever shit luck out. All those times I so foolishly sickly, wanted to die and even tried to, but I kept living. You stupid fuck you kept going despite yourself. That is an amazing thing about us as individuals and as a species that we keep going despite our stupid shit.

And despite all my stupid shit of the past, I will try to keep going and be grateful to every part of my body that stuck it out. Is gratitude were religion, I would be a fanatic about it.