Over The Hill
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Now what? It's been days since passing the great columns of 2016 and my steps are still short and tentative. It's as though I'm in a land of unknowns and dare not step with confidence or security. What to do, who to follow, what to say?
January is not the time for plunging ahead with the momentum of December at our heels. It's a time for untangling, reordering and resetting. This is good. There's comfort, cleansing and clarity in tidying small messes. Much more, there's instruction and growth in defining and redefining our goals. The steps are not double-long or double-time, but they are forward and certain.
I say these things to reassure myself as my training has been less than stupendous in recent years. It has been sustaining at best, but I'm beginning to realize that sustaining is a powerful force for good in our future. Huge and ripped I can speak to, of might I can refer, but can no longer wear as a garment.
Those days have come and those days have gone.
Gasp. True confessions of the Bomber. Makes the tales of gophers, golfers and tigers sound tame.
I'm over the hill (OTH), and the grade ahead looks like the treacherous slopes of Kilimanjaro. I only approach the subject matter -- OTH -- because no one else is willing, and because some of you bearing wide wingspans may relate and appreciate the entree.
Self-absorbed as ever, I drag you into my dilemma so I can go on, and in going on, we might learn something together. Ka-click... I just lost every ironhead under 50 to supermaxgunsandpower.com. See ya later, Bomber. Don't explode, blow up, detonate, or otherwise go puff.
Here's the thing: As long as we have a pulse or twitch in the eye, we go to the mound of metal to rattle loose parts and dust the rust. The range of exercises we can, need or desire to perform is considerable, though they are appropriately altered to suit our ongoing needs.
There are aches and squeaks and limitations, but plenty of warming up and a little oil here and there usually does the trick. Heavy loads, high speeds and excessive miles cause big problems, and care must be applied when starting, stopping and backing up. No more racing, less off-road careening.
We eat from the same table of foods, only we eat less -- less appetite, less need, less effort. As for me, I weigh less, 190 pounds, rather than 215 to 230. It's healthier, smarter and less burdensome, though I miss the mass.
Step aside, coming through is no longer my style.
Our training is similar to bombing and blasting, only more fluid. We go with the flow, surging when we can and floating when we must.
Wait: Step aside, coming through.
Now of course, there's always a wiseguy saying, "Gee, the Bomber's on a bummer, he's folding his wings, he's flipped his cockpit, he's going down."
Get outta town. I was just joking. I feel like a million bucks. Of course, in today's economy that ain't much... one of the reasons to lift weights like a maniac.
We press on.
Zoom zoom... God's speed... DD
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