Being Thin

When I was 18 years old and just out of high school I was 5' 11" and 125 lbs with a 28" waist. Then I joined the service and in basic training gained 35 lbs and went to a 32" waist. I added another 15 lbs over the years and adding 2-3" in my waist. Today I'm 5' 9" (yes, age shrinks your height) and 170 lbs with a 34" waist.

And I hate myself and my body. I've always wanted to be thin, again, and hate I never will be thin ever again. There was a time I remember, and that's all it is anymore, a memory long distant in time, but still fresh as yesterday. Oh, to be thin again. I can dream but not hope.

That's because running which I did 3-4 times a week just a few years ago is just a plan as the disgestive system problems has left my over weight and my Siactic nerve has left my left leg numb from above the knee to the ankle.

So any plans, and hope, to return to running is distant, but I'm walking now toward returning to running sometime when I can physically do it. The common sense rule is that you can run at a slow-to-moderate pace about half the distance you walk, so who knows.

Even getting back to my weight 6 years ago of 160-165 lbs when I retired is just an idea, but what else do you have. It's the old adage when you wake up, you can get better or get worse, your choice, but you can stay the same.

Not at 63 years old, but it's the only choice I have, better or worse, but getting older isn't a choice.