In my teens I wanted to live forever.
In my twenties I felt like I was going to live forever.
In my thirties I knew I was going to live forever with my wife and our kids.
Now I’m in my forties, and I’ve just realised that I’m not going to live forever. Well, not unless I stop abusing my body.
Like many people in my industry, I’ve worked long hours, done more than my fair share of business trips, and been promoted and given increased responsibilities as a result. And somewhere down the line I found I didn’t quite have enough free time to go running any more. And I ended up working through lunch, and stopped playing the badminton that I loved. With the arrival of a family, there just wasn’t time to go Scuba diving at the weekends any more. I even stopped going to the aerobics class with all the 20-year old girls (!)
And then ten years later I found myself walking up a few flights of stairs, only to get to the top feeling absolutely exhausted. I knew I was a bit out of shape, but this came as a bit of a shock. So that weekend I joined the local gym. Who promptly took my blood pressure, twice, before sending me to see my doctor. He took my blood pressure, weighed me, and sent me back to the gym at least three times a week, while starting a strict diet.
I guess the only good news is at least we found out now, before it got any worse.