“My grandmother started walking five miles a day when she was sixty. She's ninety-seven now, and we don't know where the hell she is.”
- Ellen DeGeneres
What I'm about to say is not meant to be boastful in any way. I bring it up because I'm grateful but also somewhat puzzled by it.
I started running in November of 1989. I was inspired by a friend, Gary Benton. Gary was 25 years my senior, a trim guy who enjoyed life to the fullest. He ran a few miles a week. Nothing obsessive, just an adequate amount for physical and mental health. He never suggested that I do it, I just liked his example. Up until then I had been exclusively a meathead gym goer. I don't say that to denigrate it. I met some of the best people I've ever known in gyms, many of whom are still my good friends today. But, that was my thing at the time, and no aerobic activity for me then, thank you very much.
But one evening that November, I decided I'd go out and take a run and, I haven't stopped since. Over the course of the 36 years I've run 35,000 miles. But here's the thing; In all that time and all those miles I've had zero, none, nada, not one problem with ankles, knees or hips. Nothing. What can explain that? The Lord's good favor is all I can figure. He must have said, “Son, you're not getting height or brains, but I shall bestow you with some really durable joints.” Whatever the case, I'm thankful.
The same goes with hearing. I said yesterday that I've joked about not hearing the same since I saw Ted Nugent in 1977. That's not true. My hearing is fine, which is confounding given the decibel levels at which I've listened to music over my lifetime. It must be another one of God's little jokes. I will say my good fortune was put to a test, though, on January 29, 2014. It was my birthday and my friend, Tim, and I went to see a favorite band of mine, The Hold Steady, at the Hi Tone on Cleveland St. in Memphis. The Brooklyn outfit had just added local Memphis guitar hero, Steve Selvidge, to their line up and I was pumped to see them. The Hi Tone is a small place, maybe 300 capacity, general admission. It's scroungy in all the right ways. Tim and I got up close to the stage right in front of the speakers. Out comes the band and they launched into I Hope the Whole Thing Didn't Frighten You. I gotta say, it was, indeed, just a little frightening. It felt like a 747 was taxiing by twelve feet away. MAN! Even for a rock-n-roll veteran like myself, it was an attention getter. By the end of the night I thought I might oughta go down the street to The Med and have them check me for damage. But no, by noon the next day the buzzing was gone and everything was good. Rock on!
Again, I say none of this pridefully. I give thanks for having been blessed in these two areas at least up until today. We all know how quickly things can turn in life, especially if you get to thinking you're invincible. It could all change in an instant and the next time you see me I might be on a walker with double hearing aids. But, until that happens, it's been a good run.