4D and Surviving

It is highly recommended that all males who achieve the landmark age of 40, receive a careful, thorough physical examination. There is some sort of expiration date inexorably connected with this age, for if one does not seek said exam, many previously taken for granted body functions are prone to cease. For me it was my lungs, yep, both of 'em. Though my blog posts might outline a fairly active year of cycling, hiking and the general upbeat voice of a healthy middle-aged man, the truth is last year was the laziest of my life--and I have paid dearly.

The early onset hot, dry summer, sapped much of my cycling surge, and for what ever reason I only hiked one New Hampshire peak (Mt. Mcgalloway, in the way north country). The price for this relatively sedentary summer reared it's head as I sloughed through a difficult outdoor construction job this past winter. Fighting the teeth of the wind on New Hampshire's spit of coastline, Hamptoin Beach, proved to be a game of survival that nearly overwhelmed me.. During the often brutal and constantly raw winter months, undisciplined body slowly succumbed to a deep case of bronchospasm. Big deal right? Well, for me it was. At peak inflammation I literally could not walk across a room with out stopping for breath, and I often prepared myself for the moment (impending doom) that I simply would breathe no more.

I am now nearly recovered. The toll was two weeks lost wages, 20 pounds off of a lifetime max of 165 pounds, several thousand dollars in medical exams and treatments, and a few costly forays into the wild and untamed world of holistic medicine, which combined in me to create a new found and sacred appreciation for my health. Having lived the active, footloose life of a healthy, satisfied man--with on-demand stores of pure and potent energy--I never thought I would sit in a chair and not care if I got up at all on a given day. I shall never forget the weight of the cinder block on my chest each morning at 4 a.m. which commanded me to throw off exhaustion and get up before its weight crushed my lungs.

Today I am on about 80 percent normal, I sleep a little more in total, and a touch more deeply. I eat carefully, and more often--with an eye toward healthy and an inner ear listening for my body's cravings (cliff bars and bananas this week, grapefruit and broth last) I am off meds and feeling the old me in exhilarating flashes. My humor is well, and my family knows me again. I do not let a evening end without fervent appreciation for the health I have and a deal of fond hope that it may last as long as possible. I am a grateful man.