Yesterday I barely moved and my Fitbit says I took 800 steps. Our home is small, so that’s a lot of trips to the bathroom.
Here’s something drafted not long after my right foot surgery. Almost eight years ago.
….My study of the martial arts continues. Please note this is not a new interest. I distinctly remember working (way back quite early in the second half of the last century) with Tommy Flynn and a book I had picked up from the Reed Memorial library in Carmel, New York.
It was one of the first books post-Victory Over Japan, which outlined the concepts of samurai, bushido, ninja and judo. There was a drawing noting all the significant pressure points you could press to bring your opponent to submission. I’d squeeze Tommy on his upper arm and he’d squeal in pain. He’d press somewhere on my body and I’d screech.
There were – according to the drawing – a couple of pressure points in the buttocks. We couldn’t find them and we tried. I remain mortified by the idea of repeatedly pressing spots on Tommy’s butt and looking up to see the mailman staring at us quizzically. Probably best not attempted in the front yard. But then maybe even weirder in private.
So, I am watching The Ultimate Fighter season premiere the other night and I recall hearing twice about needing to be tough, about being a man. I am tough, I am a man, but the statement struck me as a little strange.
The toughest people I have ever known in my life were women. My mother and my wife. Mom, being Mom and 88 years old, is tough in the resilient way, the enduring way. Peggy is a whole ‘nother matter. As I don’t cotton to the concept of yet another divorce, let me just share this… One day, Peggy was telling a story to us and my mother says, “I am so glad she’s on our side.”
Love the process of becoming better. Have become fit enough so I notice I am doing more. I am more capable, more energetic. The other day I did so much, I impressed myself. Then I thought, but you didn’t write. Oops. That’s not good. So, I have started minimal multi-tasking. Keep in mind, I am barely capable of doing one thing at a time. But I can read and listen to the news. I can spinbike and watch PBS. I just loved Beauty Is Embarassing about Wayne White. Just ’cause we’re strange in high school doesn’t mean we can’t be successful as adults.
I have little idea where this is going. I have written a book. It’s awesome, compelling, yada yada, blah, blah. I have dreamed of writing a book since I was old enough to read one. I have a publisher, who will pay me an advance in the thousands, do all that publisher stuff publishers do. And they might be able to get the book out by March 2014. Or… I can spend thousands of my own and self-publish, get the book out in two or three months. A quandary.
Ghandi said, “Men often become what they believe themselves to be. If I believe I cannot do something, it makes me incapable of doing it. But when I believe I can, then I aquire the ability.”
I believe I can do most anything. And this is a lesson about aging. Note: If you can’t surround yourself with those who already have the mentality, study those that do. Become a gang of one.
It is easier to teach the skills than the mentality. Which works for me. I am nothing if not mental.