During this Pandemic Time, I've been going for walks in a state park. The main walking trail is about a 3.5 mile loop, with elevation changes of 100'. It's smooth in places, rutty dirt in spaces, and rocky in some spots. One has to pay attention to walk/ride it safely. I've seen mountain bikers take spills on it.
I was out on the trail this morning. An old guy was coming the other way. He probably was in his 70s or more. He was short and bent over. He was walking with a cane and maybe taking 15" steps. It would probably take him at least three hours to walk that trail.
He had to be tougher than woodpecker lips. My guess is that he's the type of geezer who if you crossed him, he'd just kill you and never think a moment about it afterwards.
Spanks, But No Spanks
58 minutes ago
6 comments:
Since we moved to Sugar Pine, I've been walking up to the old mill pond and back every day that the weather allows. It's about 45 minutes round trip, with elevation changes and uneven surfaces, so the perfect exercise for me, really.
I walk with a quad-cane and will turn 60 in December should I manage to live that long.
I have no plans to murder anyone as of yet, and am even seeming to get along nicely with the local Republicans, and the folks who run the Christian camp who own the mill pond gave me permission to walk around on their property as long as it was safe.
-Doug in Sugar Pine
My former neighbor was that way. A child Italian immigrant WWII combat vet that worked until he died at age 89 in 2005. I loved him like a grandfather. But I am sure he would've beaten any one who crossed him, and probably kill anyone that would hurt him or his family.
There's an old story about an old king who through the cobwebs of his dotage and worm words of his councilors, even as he had forgotten why wore his chainmail 'neith his robes until the cobwebs cleared and he stood forth hale and hearty. Even made into the movie 😏
That's what I told my kid (Hell's Belles, what I tell myself) why I spend an hour at weights and an hour in the water five days a week. Don't really realize how much you miss the gym till you can't go. Been right at a month, the first couple of weeks pretty rough, but right now I'm doing 500 pushups, ~300 pullups and when the weather permits walking five miles 'round the island with wrist and walking weights every day, sometimes twice.
Kinda' chaps my ass though, back in the day, when woods shut down and I came down out of the mountains wild haired wild eyed biker hippy logger goin' to college to 'larn somethin', was asked about how back in the sawmill days people stayed in shape, and I flippantly said something about not lifting weights or swimming. That took a chunk outa' my ass.
Sixty-five in a couple of weeks. I'll bet I could still hook logs.
My brother in law works out at the local Y. An older guy is there, as well, always does the same circuit, looks to be in super shape. My BIL told me that the guy and him were talking once, and while the guy is a quiet type, who didn't reveal much, just from the way he talked, and the places he had been, it was apparent that he had worked for the fed gov in one of the letter agencies, and had done some dangerous kinds of work in some pretty shaky places when they were dealing with a lot of troubles.
I would say, you are right don't fuck with old guys. As you get closer to death, life in prison doesn't mean as much.
pigpen51
Yep, a sweet looking old men who in Belgium in 1944 shot half a platoon of Nazis. Or killed a Korean T-34 tank with a flimsy bazooka. Or like my dad fighting in the tiny unarmored `Kaiser coffin` escort carrier 'Corregidor' off Okinawa in 1945. Tough guys who led a tough life. It's like calling Buzz Aldrin a liar. You might suddenly find yourself lying on the deck with a sore jaw.
Tod,
If your father is still alive, please give him my thanks. And if not, then I wish you both my thanks in his name, and also my sorrow at your loss. That those who fought in our many wars deserve our gratitude goes without saying, but still, we need to say it.
pigpen51
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