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A Callenge for Life

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If you began today to care for your body as you care for your vehicles, would your living and eating habits drastically change?

How many things would you instantly refuse to put in your tank or down your carburator?

The least mileage I've ever gotten out of a vehicle is 209,000 and the record is 284,000!

The sad truth is, I take much better care of my vehicles than myself. I suspect we all do.

My great grandmother lived to be 101. I'm shooting for 120! Why not?

My new question to myself daily is: "If my body was my truck, would I do, eat or drink this?"

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The thought is good advice and something we all should know. The "challenge" is doing something about it!

When I get confronted with someone asking me why I do "that", my standard response is "Look, I am 60+ years old, been shot five times, thrown off tall buildings, chased by irate husbands and I'm still here!" Nearly everyone knows that is just a way for me to say - "I know it is not right, but choose this behavior".

Can't think of a single good thing about me and my behavior that was not a gift from another soul somewhere, sometime. On the other hand every marginal thing and behavior is strictly my own doing!

By the way - I don't take care of my vehicle any better than my body. Can't say that about my fishing pole.

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I had the opportunity to contemplate my life last night as I cruised home from our AZ ASHI board meeting, 70 miles from my home. I was going to spend the night, but at the last minute decided to ride home, at about 11 pm, on my Road King. About 20 miles into the ride, my headlight died. This was very unexpected because unlike my truck and my body, I treat my Harley very well, and had recently had it in for it's 20K scheduled maintenance.

Against my better judgement, I decide to risk the last 50 miles, on a very twisting and totally unlit section of I-17, with just my fog lights for illumination. Macho Man-1, Common Sense-0

I spent most of that 50 miles thinking about the choices I've made, what would happen to my kids and wife if I took the ultimate "dirt bath", and all that other philosophical stuff you think about when your mortality is staring you in the face.

It was then that I decided that I think about "me" way to much, and should really be thinking about getting my ragged a$$ home.

My motto over the last few years is "in 100 years, we'll all be dead". Some days I hit grand slams, and others I go 0-4 with three strikeouts, looking at the third called strike.

Chances are that (when I die) my kids will remember me fondly, my wife will outlive me, and in a few months I'll be just a distant memory like the billions of people who died before me.

I do believe in an afterlife, so I have that going for me...

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There is, of course, another way to look at this subject.

We tend to be tool and gadget guys. The most important tool in our possession is our body, which is progressively failing. The rate of failure is significantly influenced by our living habits.

We take pride in our tools and how to use them. We take care of them.

Last week I attended an educational seminar. The fellow inspector behind me had a dry, wheezy and piercing cough. He coughed about every 60 to 90 seconds for 8 hours. Each time he coughed no one could hear what the instructor just said.

First, it was annoying, frustrating and exhausting. But, more importantly, it was his body desperately sending him a message (roughly 360 times in 8 hrs!) that he apparently wasn't heeding.

In the vast majority of cases, we are not victims of our quality of life. We are, in fact, the authors of it.

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