Either Or

My philosophy about life, in part, is that every morning when you wake up you have a choice, a real choice about yourself, your life and your world. You can either get better or you can get worse. There is no in between. There is no status quo. There is no today will just be another day and nothing changes.

Everything changes. Even you. Physically, mentally and emotionally. You get one day older and it doesn't matter what you do or don't do, it just happens. Time is always there, not your friend, just doing what time does, passing along. You are simply another person on the path to the future.

You can't get off for a moment, it's just what is, time. And that means you get older every day and you have the choice to get better or worse. You can do both in the same day, and mostly we always do, but at the end of the day, while you are still older, you will be better or worse.

Twice in my life I've faced being what I thought was my worst. When I turned 49 I was physically the best I'd been since my 20's. I was running 3-4 miles 3-4 times a week, which for me was the farthest and most often I'd run. Then the pressures from work took it all away by the time I turned 50 I was a physical wreck, 15 lb heavier and I couldn't run a mile.

I spent the next year and a half to get back to close to what I was, and only got close but never there. The body just didn't seem to have the ability to get there, it always got tired when I approached that goal. So I settled and stayed about the same, running 3 miles 3-4 miles a week for years before getting older and slower to my mid-late 50's.

And then the proverbial wheels came off as I slowly quit running and gained the weight back. I tried walking which worked for awhile but then the body had problems as I've noted, so, when I turned 62 I was even worse than before, the worst I'd been in my life, again, and I saw no end to getting, let alone being or feeling, better.

Then I started walking ~6 miles to town and back. First 2-3 days a week in October-November and now in January I'm up to 4-5 days a week. Not without issues again. Blisters were the first issue but now I simply tape my feet to avoid them. Then the toes (black toenails), and those I haven't resolved, but I'll live with them.

The worst is the infrequent problem I've always had all my life, shin splints. They've haunted me more with running since my 40's. Usually they last a few weeks and go away with consistent running, but they haven't gone away with walking. For now I just walk through them and by mile 2-3 they're gone without any return problems until the next walk.

I have an underpronation with my left foot which causes more stress on the outer muscles of the shin and results in shin splints. This only happens with running and extended walking (more than 1/2 to 1 mile), and can continue for another 1-2 miles, less with running. There are months it's not a problem and then suddenly it is for a few weeks to months before going away.

And that's why I have the choice every day now, to walk and get better despite the problems, and hope they'll get better, or not and know rest won't make the problems go away and I'll go back to gaining weight and feeling crappy. At my age, the choice is pronounced and obvious, and the decision even more important.

So, despite the body not wanting to get out in the winter cold and often rainy weather, I have a choice, to do nothing knowing hope won't make me better, or to do something with the chance I will get better. For now, the effort is the better choice. Every morning of every day for the rest of what life I have left.

Every mile walked is a mile away from who I was and a mile closer to someone and something better. What I don't know, but I'm slowly working up to 7 miles with plans for 8 or more miles, as they say, down the road. I have the routes to town planned out to add increments of 1/2 to 1 mile when I'm ready. When I'm better.

And by then I'll be better to add the distance. And with each trip I carry the backpack to bring home stuff from the local commercial area where the turnaround point is, with the cafe as the reward for the halfway mark. Add 10-20 lbs of stuff and the walk becomes more exercise with the return route with some elevation gains and losses between there and home.

And that's the either or for me now, but it's less the either or the or and simply what I must do to stay alive or slowly get worse.

Labels

We all are faced with being labelled every day by every person we meet. And we do the same with others. It's human nature, to catagorize everyone, to simplify to what we remember. Compexity isn't our nature. So with that in mind, here is what I am according to the labels most recognized.

I'm shy and an introvert. I prefer being and doing things alone, something I've known from childhood. I'm a very private person, but when I retired I decided to tell the world about myself and my life, or at least what I want to share with the world.

I hoard empty boxes. Yes, everything I buy I keep the box. I recycle shipping boxes, or most of them as I keep some to ship things to others, but I will almost always keep the original box, just in case I'll need it. I never do and never have outside of moving and then only using the boxes for special things, stereo, computers, etc. But I still keep the boxes anyway.

I have genetic, lifelong Dysthymia. It's a milder form and doesn't require drugs. I use exercise and personal work in place of drugs. I have fallen into periods of double depression at various times of my life - the feelings are never out of my mind. I have thought about and even come close to suicide. Twice, at 28 and 50. There won't be a third time, or at least to live.

I'm an INTP person on the Myers-Briggs personality test with a few differences or quirks, whichever fits. I tend to trust my intuition slightly more than my logical thinking. I'm also very hard on myself when I make mistakes, good or bad, dwelling on how stupid I feel or how bad of a decision I made, to where I often end up hating myself.

I'm also a great procrastinator about decisions, which often leads me to reply to requests or questions, "I'll think about it.", meaning either I don't want to answer no or don't have an answer right now. Small note about this is that if I respond with that twice, it means I'm not interested, and if it's the third time, it's a polite no, meaning don't ask me again.

I can not sing, dance or play an instrument. I love listening to music, but I can't understand it beyond that it feels good. I once tried to learn the guitar, actually my parents tried and I failed, because I realzed my hands work together, which works well for coordinating movement and control, but doesn't when playing an instrument.

I used to stutter, from age 6 to past 21, and while I've learned to adjust for it in public situations, it's always hiding and waiting. it's why I also respond with some sentences when a few words will answer, the sentence overcomes the possibility of stuttering. This is all instinctive to me now.

And the rest of me is something too. It's just who I am. Just am. Just like everyone else who they are, I am.

Iron Butterfly

I saw this group in concert in 1969 at the Denver show with other bands, Big Mama Thorton, Frank Zappa and Three Dog Night. I wasn't high, stoned or drunk, and this band blew me away, especially with the really long rendition of In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida, like 30+ minutes.

Well, I've never forgotten them or this album I bought a few months later when I had a stereo system to play. I was in technical training at Lowry AFB in Denver, Colorado before being assigned to McClellan AFB in Sacramento, California. The concert was in the old Denver stadium about where Mile High Stadium is today. The accoustics were all that great but no one minded.

We attended the Friday concert and the next night the concert had a fight with erupted into a riot and closed the concert. The Sunday afternoon concert went better. But the Friday concert was great, outside of the occasional individual being too far gone to realize where they were and needed to be helped or escorted out of the crowd.

We had good seats and stayed the whole time getting back to the barricks well into early morning. After that what can I say, I was 19 years old, it was 1969, and music was cool. And they were awesome. And for what it's worth, Erik Braun, one of the guitar players, was a violin prodigy before playing the guitar. And folks then thought rock musicians were self-taught, garage practicing players.

It's always a turn-up-the-volume album and ... the neighbors music. Even now in my 60's.