I loved fitness well before I knew it could make me lean and shapely. – Me, 2011
I also loved fitness well before I knew I could make money off it while I continued to poke around a million doctors trying to find out what was wrong with me.
Fitness saved me. It gave me a reason to be up early. It helped me maintain some semblance of a schedule. Hell, if I hadn’t been fit as a fiddle I probably wouldn’t have met Danny. He will get his time when I later ruminate on how my TBIs adversely effected other people, but I think back to how a half-crazy, foggy-brained space cadet landed that guy. I think he could see “me” in many ways. Despite this I had a drive that I can’t even describe, and I believe he saw it as unique and admirable. But he posed the question that will forever echo in my ears, “Are you running from something or are you running away from something?”
Fitness was my saving grace and the military had jacked up my left foot (worse than the right). It was the combat boots without any arch support and I had high arches that came crashing down over six years. The VA further jacked up my foot, resulting in a half-assed surgery (I’m not speculating, years later another doctor would tell me it was a half-assed job), that led to hip surgery. A lot of things got in the way of my fitness but I always found my way back to it.
It’s well known that exercise is good for the mind, body and soul. There is a deep, sentimental connection I have to physical fitness that I cannot even articulate. It’s still a big part of my life, but five surgeries deep into my left foot, which is now bionic (rad) I’ve shifted from tons of racing long distance to hiking, climbing, shorter races.