But this past Thursday morning, after a restless night, I slept in, then told myself I didn't need to get up and do my daily exercises, especially climbing on my recumbent exercise bike for 30 minutes minimum. I whined and wheedled, trying to convince myself that it wasn't important that day to meet my daily miles quota to keep me on track.
Then I remembered something, or rather someone. A lot of someones, actually.
I have several friends and family members who have passed away in the last few years. And I have a lot of friends, colleagues, acquaintances, and social media friends who have had or are facing horrible physical challenges and diseases. Some are even facing the reality that their days on this earth are few.
That's a very sobering thing to remember while snug in bed whining to your cat about peddling a few miles while watching the previous night's The Daily Show.
Shame on me!
I am 64 years old, and while I am overweight, I enjoy excellent health. Yes, I have some arthritis and stiffness, but nothing too bad or debilitating. So far any discomfort can be handled with the occasional ibuprofen. I am truly fortunate. And I never want to forget that, not for one minute.
In the end, I got my lazy fat ass out of bed, climbed on the bike, and rode it for 6.02 miles. And I'll do it again tomorrow and the day after.
Because I still can.
I do it for me, and for those who cannot and wish they could.
Every mile is for them.