Babywater! Remember that? It’s the phonic rendition of my personal acronym BABWTR. Those who have been reading my blog since the beginning (possibly that’s only my wife, Susan) know all about this. For those of you who weren’t around or can’t remember, I’ve written ten posts about my half-assed attempt to become a Bad Ass … Continue reading Bad Ass?
I’m surrounded by athletes. They’re everywhere I turn. Susan’s massage clients, my friends from the fitness center (which is also where I work), the other volunteers on the committees I’ve joined. They’re triathletes really—runners, swimmers, cyclists. But we’re old, or aging at least, and most of us have dropped a sport or two. I’m a … Continue reading Time Off
Any age ending in “three” is destined to be an afterthought. A year ago I turned fifty-three. Too old for my early-fifties. Too young for my mid-fifties. I entered fifty-three with zero expectations. Just another year of life. A way-station on my journey to fifty-five, or to sixty. When I was in my twenties, I was … Continue reading Endurance, tattoos and pain