As I finished my second exercise set this afternoon... I was ready to pass by a neighbor that lives 420 meters from our home. He is age 99. He will be 100 in December. He was cleaning up his yard and clipping his shrubs for tomorrow's town yard pick up. I stopped by to chat with him. He said, "The kids don't want me to do this, like its going to make me die. I think at this point I could die in (pointing to his home) there sitting down or outside doing this." I responded, "You're correct. You gotta live. Do what feels good for you. " He, at this point can hear me with hearing aids. Though his sight has diminished to two feet within his range, then he can see me. He remembered when my husband passed. We talked about marriage and protecting our children and their future. He remembered who our children were and asked about them. Then we talked about birthdays. I found out that he and I had a ton of birthdays in our families in July and October. We laug...
You stay alive. Yet it never ends. 35 years ago, today I was supposed to be dead. But here I am currently sitting behind a computer writing this to you, the reader. This would not be an ordinary death. No. Not one that anyone would like to talk about—your spouses, your family, your friends and so forth. This death would be filled with rage. I will say rage enough to take out Putin and all his armies at least. I still feel that today, deep down in the basement of my soul. That rage still moves me. Oh, I’ve gone to and gone through the best therapies. Yet it remains. Perhaps my business here is not done. I might be a conduit of some sort. Who knows. I thought this morning as I gently stretched after chores, hoping my pain would not entice me to withhold my desire to run. Yesterday’s run was brutal. I eeked out 1.31 miles in a 8:23 per mile pace feeling pain the whole way. Thank God, I decided not to work my way through a local ultra-marathon today. It would have been the race I’d treat...