Sore Thoughts

You can tell you’re getting old when you wake up sore and the only thing you did the previous day was take a long walk. I guess I need to take more long walks, although I thought I was doing fairly well in that regard. Afterall I just spent a week hiking various trails in Big Bend, and I almost always chose walking over driving in camp. Perhaps I overdid it, because there’s a line in a song I like, Old Folks Boogie, about my mind making promises my body can’t keep and I do tend to think I’m young and act like it, although looking in a mirror will draw me up short.

So, we’ll see how the day goes. I’m just on my first cup of coffee, and I have things in the yard I’d like to do, and on most days the soreness usually dissipates as I move around. Because apparently getting sore while you sleep is the cost of growing old, and I don’t know why I’m surprised because you should see me get out of the car after a long drive and try to straighten up. I wish I had grease zerks, then I could keep myself fully lubricated.

And now I’m reminded of another of my mother’s sayings, that if wishes were horses, beggars would ride which is like saying stop asking for stuff you can’t have and learn to live with what you’ve got. So, to honor her and avoid sounding whiny, I’m going to stop even though I’m about fifty words short of my 300 word goal, although this last little burst of words is pulling me slightly closer and making it easier for me to go, and now I’m gone.