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I ran everywhere when
I was a child. As an 18- to 20-year-old, I ran in the Army—in the mornings for
PT (physical training) and a few times a year for our regular PT test 2-mile
runs. I also ran daily for exercise, to counteract the fat-storing effect of
drinking German beer. I was vain and appearance-conscious—unlike now….
In my late 20’s and
early 30’s, I inline skated hundreds of miles on roads, sidewalks and parking
lots in Pittsburgh , Wheeling
and Memphis Stuttgart ,
Germany , Southern France and
later, back in the U.S.
During my late 30’s, I
began using my Nordic Track ski machine, the one that my first, practice, wife
had given me for my birthday moments before telling me that she wanted a
divorce. I’d kept the machine and took it with me wherever I moved because it
seemed so potentially useful.
After that, for
several years, until my mid-40’s, I didn’t do much running or skating or skiing.
Instead, I plodded
along under loads of lumber, sheets of drywall, bags of concrete, sectioned railroad
ties, old bathtubs, cans of paint, buckets of drywall mud, replacement toilets,
rolls of tar paper, bundles of shingles and extension ladders. My steps were
heavy and just as carefully-placed as an elephant or very large human walking
on ice.
