I keep thinking about that big red school house on 81st and Madison. P.S. 6 was where I spent my formative years. I shoplifted from the candy store a block away. I walked to and from this point so many times that the route to Harlem is etched in my waking consciousness. I remember how on those long walks to 135th I thought about my ‘stats’ namely the skills and physical attributes I had and wanted to improve. I never thought about the age 37. I never considered what it would feel like to get old–hell, I thought Batman was an immortal soul who somehow was older but not really old. Now that I am old–older–I often wander back to those ‘stat’ walks and think about where my stats are now.
The physical stuff took a dip. Just this evening my wife hacked my facebook account and posted that I was off to work on my grinch belly. True Story. So we can say my speed, agility, and strength all declined. The decline is in direct proportion to aging and weight gain. I’m struggling with finding the motivation to do anything about that. Likewise I am struggling with the motivation to improve other aspects of my life. Call it suburban comfort or even a lack of fight or flight instincts in this stage. I’ve gone on about this before, but there doesn’t seem to be much change happening.
What to do about that?