The ankle is on the mend, and it’s a good thing because I needed it today. You see I just got a new person on my usual route. That’s a good thing, but he lives in an apartment building in the avenues, on the third floor with no elevator. I don’t need to remind you that I am not the physical specimen I once was. My limit seems to be two flights because by the time I got to the third I was breathing pretty heavy. I remember a time not too long ago when I could run a good mile at close to a dead sprint. I guess fifty years takes off a step or two.
When I got to the door the young man, Danny I think he said, was just coming out. The ‘ol Gunny’s pride kicked in and I stood up straight as an arrow and did my best to act like I was feeling tip top. It worked though ‘cause the guy mentioned how good I looked for a man who was so obviously “mature” I think was the word he used. I just couldn’t keep my Georgia mouth shut and I went on and on about how I liked to keep myself in good shape. I left out the fact that I was limited to that crazy elliptical contraption Jenny bought off the QVC. It’s easy on the ‘ol joints though so I recommend it to any of ya’ll lookin’ to get in shape. Anyway, Danny said he’d felt bad about loading the bag too heavy since I’d have to carry it down three flights but since I was in such good shape he pulled out an area rug for me to take with me. He offered to help of course but I was in too deep by then to admit I needed it so I had to heave that ‘ol rug all the way down to the truck on my back. Jenny has me laid out on the floor pumped full of ibuprofen as we speak.
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