I’m going to turn 51 in October. That may sound old to some people, but I’m a spring chicken in the prime of my life. That’s what my 82-year-old daddy tells me every time we talk about age. He wouldn’t lie.
You may doubt this, but I do all kinds of exercise because I’m still in the Army Reserve. I’ll have you know that I beat most everyone in my unit in the two-mile run. Of course my unit is a division headquarters where men less than 55 are called “sonny”.
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