The snowblower in my veins

The hard wall of snow at the end of the drive had to be whittled down 3″ at a time. 

I got out to shovel and use the snowblower just after 6:00 a.m. this morning  We received about seven inches of wet snow last night. To make matters more interesting, our driveway was clogged with four of the five cars we own in our household. I’d forgotten to pull my Subaru Outback into the garage. The rest are transports for the 20-somethings who live with us. 

There were drifts in front of the car bumpers. I skimmed past them with the snowblower that my daughter’s boyfriend had mercifully gotten to work by cleaning off the sparkplug head last night. It roared into action this morning after nudging the choke lever into position, giving two pumps of the fuel primer and one hard yank on the cord.

Man that thing is loud when it comes on. 

Wall of snow

A work in progress and an illustration of life itself? 

It was a vital instrument this morning given the wall of frozen snow blocking the end of our driveway. I had to carve away at the wall of snow by shaving off inches at a time. Finally I broke through after narrowing it down from three feet wide to a width where the snowblower could chaw through the chunks tossed there by the snowplow during the night.

It’s true: All of life involves problem-solving of one kind or another. Some of that is hard and some is easy. Clearing our way out of the snow would be a game of sorts if it wasn’t so damned hard in places. 

Sweating it out

Even using the snowblower, I worked up a sweat underneath the hooded sweatshirt I wore to keep out the wind. That layer of sweat on my body got me thinking about how grateful I am to have stayed in some kind of shape all these years. This was heart attack snow for sure; wet, heavy and re-frozen into thick drifts and impenetrable banks.

Truth be told, even the basic layer of snow was hard work to move. I’d shoveled enough on the walk and top of the driveway to realize this was not the type of snow one should wrestle with by hand. Hence the snowblower phase. 

Performance measures

The little red Toro that could. Nothing fancy. Just clears the snow. 

We can fuss and fret about our race performances all we want. Lament the loss of speed to age and the competitive fury to recognition that it is only age-group stuff that matters these days. 

What truly matters in the end is how this fitness stuff helps us function in day-to-day life. That also reminds me that I’ve too long ignored the recommendation of my doctor to take medication to control cholesterol and prevent blockages in my circulatory system. My mom and dad both had troubles with heart disease or stroke, so the family history outweighs my vanity and pride. 

If I need a snowblower to clear out my veins and arteries in the long run, so be it. Whatever works to keep things safe and navigable. 

HI EVERYONE. Hope you had a nice Thanksgiving. Is there anything on your Christmas Fitness List this year? Would love to hear about it. cudworthfix@gmail.com…Even your wish list might be fun to share…even if there’s no way in hell you’re getting that $10K Pinarello. 

About Christopher Cudworth

Christopher Cudworth is a content producer, writer and blogger with more than 25 years’ experience in B2B and B2C marketing, journalism, public relations and social media. Connect with Christopher on Twitter: @genesisfix07 and blogs at werunandride.com, therightkindofpride.com and genesisfix.wordpress.com Online portfolio: http://www.behance.net/christophercudworth
This entry was posted in aging, aging is not for the weak of heart, anxiety, Christopher Cudworth, competition, healthy aging, healthy senior and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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