I was formerly able to heal.
When I’d cut myself, the wound disappeared within a week.Ã‚Â Overtaxed muscle?Ã‚Â Forgotten after a day.Ã‚Â If I drank in excess I sprang back.
Now, if I scratch a mosquito bite, I’ve got a souvenir on my ankle for six to nine months.
I decided to go to a batting cage with some friends.Ã‚Â I ripped like mad.Ã‚Â The next day the torso ached a bit.Ã‚Â The following week I returned, determined to impress the cute twenty-something’s who ran the place.Ã‚Â On one power swing I felt a tinge in my upper arm.Ã‚Â Ã‚Â For four months I couldn’t take off a shirt without feeling my shoulder yelp in protest.Ã‚Â Four months!
A friend said that as the body ages, cells divide less frequently, slowing recovery.Ã‚Â I asked a trainer if I could offer some incentive plan to my cells.
“Yeah,” he replied.Ã‚Â “Drink from the fountain of youth.”
So I went out drinking.Ã‚Â And I didn’t feel a thing.
That is, until the next morning, when my body launched a revolt.
When did my body become boss?Ã‚Â Is it going to be “yes, dear” for the home stretch?
And stretching!Ã‚Â Don’t get me started.
Photo by: Patricia H., CC Licensed
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