Beware The Vacation Superman: I Think I Should Have Thought This Through A Little More
Oh, boy, does my body ache! And, no, it’s not a “good” pain.
“Good” pain!? What the hell is that? Oh, I know. Some people say “good” pain reminds you that you are alive. Really? I’ll tell you what will remind me I’m alive. . .a big, fat, juicy, deep fried chocolate cake donut with chocolate frosting and chocolate sprinkles, downed with a healthy-sized glass of thick, creamy, fatty, whole chocolate milk.
I don’t need pain to remind me I am alive. I know I am alive. I have pain. My life would be much better without the pain.
I wouldn’t have to grunt when I get out of the chair. . .or bed. . .or walk. . .or get out of the car.
No, I am 60 years old. I know it’s the new 40. Whatever. Shut up.
I have pain where I have pain. After years of playing hard and fighting even harder when I was younger, all of those old injuries I “played through” are now rearing their ugly heads.
There is no better reminder you are alive at the “older” ages than trying to play like you are younger. How do I know that? Duh. Because I refuse to go gently into old age, that’s why.
