Geezer-Gait: Addendum

This just in: our feisty walker sends us the latest with regard to Geezer-Gait. You perhaps will remember her little jingle: How straight the gait, how long the stride/Rather sit and gripe, I do confide/ Six miles a day--and more--ALAS!/ With any luck--this TOO shall pass.

The body has already rebelled against Geezer's zealous stupidity. Marathon Mamma is currently repackaging herself. Seems the truth of the matter (which is she's too old for such sudden athleticism) manifested itself quite efficiently in the alarming (and unaesthetic) swelling of those limbs of locomotion.

"Enough already!" her legs screamed. "This is definitely not cool! You just don't get it do you? It's your age, stupid, and if you won't consult your brain, then take it from us!"

"Ok, you son of a bitch columns of concrete . . . you made your point! Now what? We're all in this together, you know."

GeezerGeek thought she had them with that one. The retort was immediate; "Clip-clop us down to the pool and let the pressure of the water heal the mess you've made! Just DO it!"

"What??????? And be one of those old farts that hang around the cabana with nothing more on their minds but how to stay alive?"

"And WHAT, pray tell, was on your mind with all that crazy walking stuff?"

"That was different,"said she, throwing up her hands."How could I expect a mere pair of legs to understand what was really going on during those early morning miles? The aim was not so much to tune up the body but tune into the quintessence of being alive."

"Bullshit! You were on an ego-trip at our expense!"

"Well if that's the way you feel about it, you can go soak yourselves for all I care."

"That's kinda what we had in mind, Dumbo; shall we?"


--Nimrod



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