Friday 15 July 2005

Pic of the day: "You have to level up in everything!" Sage advice from the anime Rizelmine.

Bodily retarded

My legs are no longer stiff, and I celebrated this by going to the shop and buying some insignificant pieces of food, then walking back home. Perhaps having a couple of days off from walking the hills was just what I needed, because today my pulse was the lowest in weeks compared to the speed. And it did not go into hyperdrive at the end of the trip either; but then again it was not Sunday. One possible theory is that the sudden faster heartbeat comes when the body has used up its storage of glycogen: Since I have time to walk more during the weekends, Sunday would be when this happens if at all. But that is just an idea here; more experiments are necessary.

***

As I was walking home from the shop, I saw a man of my own generation (more or less) passing on one of those modern bicycles. And I briefly thought to myself: Wouldn't it be nice if I got in such a shape that I could bike from home to work? That would surely be practical. This thought was just trying to land on my brain when I swatted it away like a fly. You see, I have actually biked to work in the past. It was not practical. It took a lot more time than riding the bus, and I could not use that time to read or sleep. And almost every day was either too hot or too cold or too wet. Because of this, I would actually take the bus most days, and so I would still buy a monthly bus card, and so I would not save any money at all and the cost of the bicycle would be pure expense. After all, you need a pretty good bike for such a long ride, so that would be a nice amount of money wasted.

And then I thought: Running does not require a bike. Running to work would certainly take too long time (the bus uses at least 25 minutes) but I could run to the shop and back instead of walking. Wouldn't that be practical? Sure. And I suppose unless some tragedy happens to me, I will continue to walk faster and faster until the snow falls and makes it somewhat difficult to keep up the practice. But right now, I'm not even jogging, just walking at a brisk pace in the hilly terrain. Walking is pretty far from running, I guess. So I thought to myself: You are like a six year old boy saying that he wants to be a jet pilot or a firefighter, it is just a dream and you have no idea how to get from here to there. Except you are not six years old, but 46. So that makes you a retard. Instead of being mentally retarded, you are bodily retarded!

I found that thought amusing. In a manner of speaking it is true. As a child I could not play games of physical exercise like the other boys, because of my asthma. So my physical development was indeed delayed, or retarded if you will. And for the rest of my life I have carried this attitude with me. Because as a child I would have asthma attacks either after physical exertion or when I woke up in the night, I was conditioned to fear bed and exercise (and obviously any combination of these). I still stay out of bed until I am almost unconscious. It doesn't seem likely that I will have more success in overcoming that other fear, that exercise will kill me.

But I keep pushing the boundary. Now and again, a little each week. Trying again to live each day as if it is not the last. One of them will be, of course. And perhaps exercise will kill me in the end, who knows? Or perhaps I will be hit by lightning. Or perhaps the lump in my breast is after all incurable cancer, and I will be remembered for a few years as the freak guy who died from breast cancer, before I am forgotten. I am not sure it should matter. Right now, this is who I am, the dreamer who knows he is dreaming and still doesn't stop. Perhaps running like a child is as impossible as flying. But I can still walk a little faster tomorrow, or perhaps a little longer. Using my body while I still have it. Living each day as if it is not the last... not despite the fact that one of them will be, but because of it.