One Page at a Time: Physical Well-Being

Let's just get this goal out of the way.

It's the one most people resolve to achieve in a new way at the start of every new year. Which is probably why I've decided to try something new. I'm going to take care of it now. Before New Year's Day. On Thanksgiving Eve.

I'm certain I will achieve it, too. Which is the whole point of goal-setting.

I am determined--when it comes to my physical well-being--not to over-achieve or under-achieve. I'm simply going to achieve.

One step forward and only one step back.

I will keep time like a pendulum. Because as Jack Nicholson once asked in the movie by the same title, "What if this is as good as it gets?"

I think maybe it is.

After all, I am in my forty-fifth year of life. Which is the halfway point more or less. I doubt my physical stamina will get much better at this point. I have a few genetic strikes against me. But, at the moment, I have one key advantage.

After a recent biopsy, I was informed I do not have cancer or even pre-cancer. But, I do have an anomaly that could turn into pre-cancer if I didn't add a preventative medication and maybe surgery if that doesn't work.

In my own words, I may have an anomaly, but I am pre-pre-cancerous.

By my non-medical estimation, that is as good as it gets.

Because right at this moment, I can still remember the names and faces of the people I love. I can--and mostly want to--get out of bed without assistance every morning. I can drive myself to wherever I want to go. I may have myopic vision, but I don't need readers yet. I can play half-court basketball with my sons and shoot with both hands. I can walk both my dogs at the same time. I can do a 30-minute Tony Horton workout, which means a 10-minute Tony Horton workout should be a piece of cake. I can still eat the best chocolate torta and my favorite French silk pie. I can have my dark-chocolate mocha.

But, I can order a small instead of a medium.

I can do that 10-minute Tony Horton workout and know that is better than doing a zero-minute Tony Horton workout.

I can eat an apple with my own teeth.

I can walk one dog at a time around my block and get a sustained thirty minutes rather than a grueling fifteen. That way I can enjoy him for who he is and her for who she is. I can appreciate their individual anomalies.

I might hear the same non-migration bird twice.

I might see a tree shake off all its leaves in anticipation of a pure white snow-covering and a deep sleep until Spring's renewal.

I might walk home on my own two feet and write down what my five senses are still able to show me.

I might stop the pendulum for a few seconds and preserve a moment of time.

One step forward and only one step back.

Not over-achieving or under-achieving. Simply achieving.

Being grateful for the as-good-as-it-gets.

Being thankful for the eve.