What do You Have to lose?

“What do you have to lose?  I tell you already you are looking good so.”  These comments were trashed at me about one week ago during my early morning workout session from a young man who seemingly has nothing to lose.  My response to him was, “this hardly is about losing something; rather, it is about keeping well and healthy.”

The point is, I know we all have to die some way somehow, and this inevitability we have no control over.  But come on, do we need to allow ourselves to just get all flabby, shaky, out of shape and in some way even ugly?  Clearly we will not always acquire the Coke Bottle Shape, nor will all of make it to the national sports team, some of us won’t even lose all the pounds we desire to shed, while others of us may not even survive the workout, we could die from it.  Still, is it worth it living life with no motion, no movement, a lack of self-motivation and discipline?

Looking back on my childhood and adolescence remind me of the many days I walked from Gutter (Cotton Hill) to Long House and back in the hot sun to take my mother’s tickets and to collect her pay cheque.   My mother carried ‘fig’ (bananas) on her head weekly as a job.  For each trip she made from the shed to the badge, she collected a ticket.  This was all a part of the Geest Trade of Bananas from the local Portsmouth Port to England.  She along with many women made their living being part of that industry.  So anyway, I would religiously on a weekly basis do the necessary to collect her money.

Coupled with this, my siblings and I made several trips from our home to the standpipe and back with loaded, and or filled Jerry cans as buckets.  That meant we had to defy two steep hills on the way several times.  Clearly my cardio was in full effect since the aforementioned movements were complemented by cycling.   Later, a fall from my brother’s tall mountain bike Continue reading

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Do You Care to Care?

Today on my way to visit a housebound relative, I spotted a familiar elderly man literally struggling to get to his home under a downpour.  With genuine concern I reversed the car and offered him a ride.  To my surprise the elder’s visual ability was rather bad, and so his cane serves as a guide.  That visual impairment prevented him from crossing the gutter unto the main road.  That meant that I was left to get out of the driver’s seat to assist him.

Thankfully, just as I was getting out, a kind young lady ran toward us with an umbrella and assisted with getting him to sit in the car.  That was so uplifting to see, and it shed a light of hope about us as a community.

Once he was seated, we were on our way.  In between small talk and lamentations of a typical elder, I sought to find out exactly where he lived, and he ranted about the fact that he was denied a drink at a shop because the teller refused to sell him the coke he wanted.  I suspected that it was really more than the coke he was denied.  The new odor which drowned the Black Iced air freshener aroma it was evidence enough.

This did not deter my quest to get this man to his home as safely and as dry as I possibly could.  Interestingly, once we got close enough to the junction of his home, I parked where I thought it would be closest and easiest for him.  Well, that was my biggest error. Continue reading