Once upon a time, about 15 years ago, I moved from near downtown Washington, D.C., to the suburbs. Instead of walking a 3-mile round trip to work every day, I now rode the subway.
My body had always taken care of itself. I had earned a reputation of sneering at the growing armies of runners along the sidewalks and streets. But even I recognized that I would miss those morning and evening walks. When I whined to my doctor how hard it was to find time to exercise, he scolded, ï¿½You need to make time.ï¿½
So at 5:00 one winter morning, I forced my feet from under the covers and onto the floor, tied on a new pair of sneakers, and huffed and puffed for a mile, jogging some, mostly walking.
Gradually, I ran more and farther. Then last year, after more than a decade of swearing I would never enter a race, I ran my first marathon at age 50. I still donï¿½t know why. My wife kindly calls running my hobby, but thereï¿½s too much pain involved for me to agree with that. I suspect itï¿½s some baby-boomer obsession to deny the aging process.
The point to this story is that itï¿½s a personal story. NOBODY could have successfully told me to start running. I decided.
In this issue youï¿½ll find a feature about staying healthy. We also want you to write your own fitness story and send it to us. Tell us about your success and we will print some of those accounts in January. Youï¿½ll find details about sending us your fitness story in this month’s Web issue of the magazine.
Unfortunately, personal health is not among the qualities Kentucky can be proud of. Statistics for nutrition, disease, and illness put us on the wrong Top 10 lists.
But a lot of Kentuckians are working to change those upside-down distinctions.
Donï¿½t do what I did. Running a 26-mile race is crazy. But setting that goal worked for me. Make your own decision to be healthy, and carry it out in a way that suits you.
Write your own happily-ever-after fitness story.