One comment on “I wish I could write like this. Endurance

  1. I enjoy your posts and I appreciated the link to the story. Touching, but not maudlin. I miss my dad. He died @ 73, but I was too self-centered to be grateful. He was very sick, so he would never have run a sawmill and I don’t think I saw him on a bike since I rode on the luggage rack of his Montgomery Ward bicycle before I learned to ride myself, but he was a gentle, caring man that doted on my mom for 51 years. His only passion was reading and complications of diabetes slowly robbed him of that. Stroke and neuropathy robbed him of any physical activity. Now I am only 20 years away from his age at his death, in much better health than he was and I think I’m getting closer to understanding what real endurance is. Yes, the plantar fasciitis hurts when I get out of bed in the morning, but I can still get out of bed. Running has tightened my legs so much that I can barely swing my leg over my bike, but I can still bike and run. I finally need Walgreen’s cheaters to see my computer screen (or anything smaller than a basketball), but I can still read the instructions for building my first recumbent bike. And I can still feel my hands so I can play my guitar and weld. I’ve lost count of the number of running races and triathlons I’ve done, but I’m just coasting. He had endurance.

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