Who's to say how long you'll live? We don't know. I don't know.
I have a friend who recently confessed, "I'm not afraid to die. If I were to die tomorrow, that'd be okay. I've lived a full life. I'm happy. I have no regrets."
Time marches on. My dear grandmother claims time is moving faster these days. She's in her early 90's. Perhaps with the invention of the car, all of sudden we're going from A to B faster, maybe time did pick-up. Gone is the clip-clop horse and buggy days of getting from here to there.
With time, comes age. With age, comes fat. With fat comes the fight!
I want to beat it. I want to look how I feel. Twenty-something. I dig the cool tunes, I groove to techno-pop. I usher in the teen lingo whenever I talk. But what's up with the flab? Like time throughout the day, the fat just all of a sudden creeps up on you. Especially when you're over fourty!
The solution? Working out. Everyday. At least for an hour. Love it. Gotta love it. Sweating. Lifting weights. Running. Spin classes. Fun in the sun - kayaking. Must be done. Must be done. Must be done... more then five days a week. Must be done. Okay. WILL DO!