Weight Loss? — By Tommy Purser

Twenty-two years ago, I wrote the following column:
“I’m looking forward to this weekend. I wrote last fall about my experience with the AWAR — the Altamaha Wilderness Adventure Race. It was a made-for-young-people event that included running a long way, paddling a long way, bicycling an even longer way and traversing a variety of obstacle courses ranging from difficult to absurd.
I was the second oldest person in the event. My partner, Jerry Ban from Lumber City, was the oldest. Thank goodness for Jerry …. I wasn’t the AWAR’s “Old Man.”
This weekend’s event isn’t supposed to be as difficult, nor as grueling. It’s called the AWAC –the Altamaha Wilderness Adventure Challenge. No racing, no hurrying, just finishing at your own pace.
Unfortunately, despite my advancing age — I will be 56 this year — I haven’t been able to shed the competitive urges that drove me so hard during the days of my youth. Alas, while the mind is willing the body …. especially the legs …. no long cooperates.
As I age, winning isn’t nearly as important as finishing …. in fact, just showing up takes on more importance with every birthday. It’s hard to sit here at the keyboard and explain to non-athletes the adrenaline high that goes with extreme athletic accomplishment.
Not necessarily winning accomplish, in terms of winning against others but, rather, winning against yourself. Driving yourself to approach your physical limits.
Following the AWAR last October, I was transformed by the adrenaline high that permeated every fiber of my body. The high was intense and longlasting.
But it was not everlasting. The afternoon of the next day, I crashed. Hard.
Didn’t want to run, or pedal, or paddle for days …. make that weeks.
But that was seven months ago. I’m ready now for another challenge. Another high.
Most of you readers probably don’t understand that. But, then, it’s like a lot of wonderful experiences in life …. love, grandchildren, happiness, fulfillment …. it’s something you have to experience to understand.
*****
The column above was written 22 years ago. Notice that I wrote in that column, ” —- I will be 56 this year —-” Unless you’re horrible at math, you probably easily computed that I’ll be 78 this year.
Today, I can’t even think about “running a long way” without having to sit down and rest.
Ditto paddling, bicycling and traversing.
Speaking of paddling reminds me of pedaling …. a bike, that is …. my back won’t even allow me to lean over a set of bicycle handlebars, let alone lean over and pedal at the same time.
And, while I wrote in that column of more than two decades past that I hadn’t been able to shed the competitive urges that drove me so hard during the days of my youth, today I can’t even remember such urges. The only urges I get these days are the urge to go to the bathroom and the urge to scratch my belly.
And while I vaguely recall driving myself to approach my physical limits in the past, today I can’t recall the last time I drove myself to the city limits.
And another thing — I don’t think I was taking any daily medications 22 years ago. This morning before I left for work, I consumed 11 pills ….. and set aside five more to take before I crawl into bed tonight.
How’s a man supposed to keep his weight down with that kinda consumption every day?