On these blogs I generally give current or at least relevant research to the LifeNuts lifestyle. However, once in a while, if I think it’s pertinent, I’ll add something personal. Yesterday’s (Oct. 9) experience qualified for a blog.
A funeral took my wife and me to downtown Chicago on Monday and Tuesday. Urban living, especially for an Ohio boy like me, is a far cry from living in Cincinnati – where traffic’s never really an issue and housing and people aren’t jammed together like sardines in a can.
On Tuesday morning I decided to run on Lakeshore Drive, Chicago’s busy four-lane street along Lake Michigan and through the heart of the skyscraper section of the city. I turned south, heading away from the lake – I get enough outdoor scenery every week on my runs in my hometown park – and so I shifted gears and headed into the business district – where the street’s name changes to Michigan Avenue, Chicago’s main thoroughfare.
At eight o’clock I thought I’d see more people. But the sidewalks weren’t crowded, making it delightful to be able to run at an easy pace, not having to dodge people and weave my way through a maze of humanity. As I ran past one glamorous shop after another, past bank buildings, office complexes, hotels with doormen and valet parking attendants, I savored the aroma of one of America’s big cities. Everything seemed to be working in unison: everybody knew where they were going; traffic flowed well; and horn honking was negligible.
The crisp autumn morning allowed people to dress minimally, although a few folks wore coats. Most were outfitted impeccably. Businessmen wore dapper suits and sported shiny shoes. Young girls must have inhaled to get into trendy pants and dresses while older career ladies seemed more comfortable in traditional power suits. Wearing headphones and eyes glued to mobile phones was common, though more typical of the younger generations.
As I motored effortlessly down the sidewalks, I noticed waistlines as well, most of which, if not covered by a heavy coat, revealed weight problems. With the exception of the many beautiful young girls with skintight pants (presumably worn to show off their slimness), the great majority was either overweight or obese. Many years ago, before I was exposed to LifeNuts concepts, I would have never noticed these folks. Hell, I was one of them.
So as I bounded down Chicago’s concrete pathways, I began to feel a sensation I had never experienced previously. It was a sensation that perhaps only another runner or a fit athlete can understand. I felt a sense of freedom, a feeling of being fit and being able to move smoothly through the throngs of my fellow overweight Americans. I didn’t feel superior to them nor did I feel smug; rather, I felt fortunate, almost as if I had been given a gift of fitness that I wanted to share with them, although I’m not sure they would have been interested.
I wasn’t the only runner on the streets: there were a few others, some slower, some faster. A few smiled at me and I smiled back. And then another thought struck me: the financial part of LifeNuts. How lucky I was to be financially independent and be able to run in downtown Chicago in the midst of so many industrious souls on their way to their jobs. Would they, too, become financially independent someday or would they, like so many older Americans, have to work throughout their golden years? I wondered silently as I ran by them. On streets glittering with shiny BMWs, Mercedes, and other luxury cars and lined with shops touting expensive material possessions (Indeed one store was actually named “Material Possessions”), would these Chicagoans be wise enough to save for a prosperous retirement? Or would they cave into peer pressure, neglecting both their savings accounts and their waistlines.
Anyway, the experience of feeling fit – both physically and financially – struck me right between the eyes. I’m not sure if I’ve ever experienced those sensations before today. And it made me feel awfully good that I’ve chosen the LifeNuts lifestyle.
A funeral took my wife and me to downtown Chicago on Monday and Tuesday. Urban living, especially for an Ohio boy like me, is a far cry from living in Cincinnati – where traffic’s never really an issue and housing and people aren’t jammed together like sardines in a can.
On Tuesday morning I decided to run on Lakeshore Drive, Chicago’s busy four-lane street along Lake Michigan and through the heart of the skyscraper section of the city. I turned south, heading away from the lake – I get enough outdoor scenery every week on my runs in my hometown park – and so I shifted gears and headed into the business district – where the street’s name changes to Michigan Avenue, Chicago’s main thoroughfare.
At eight o’clock I thought I’d see more people. But the sidewalks weren’t crowded, making it delightful to be able to run at an easy pace, not having to dodge people and weave my way through a maze of humanity. As I ran past one glamorous shop after another, past bank buildings, office complexes, hotels with doormen and valet parking attendants, I savored the aroma of one of America’s big cities. Everything seemed to be working in unison: everybody knew where they were going; traffic flowed well; and horn honking was negligible.
The crisp autumn morning allowed people to dress minimally, although a few folks wore coats. Most were outfitted impeccably. Businessmen wore dapper suits and sported shiny shoes. Young girls must have inhaled to get into trendy pants and dresses while older career ladies seemed more comfortable in traditional power suits. Wearing headphones and eyes glued to mobile phones was common, though more typical of the younger generations.
As I motored effortlessly down the sidewalks, I noticed waistlines as well, most of which, if not covered by a heavy coat, revealed weight problems. With the exception of the many beautiful young girls with skintight pants (presumably worn to show off their slimness), the great majority was either overweight or obese. Many years ago, before I was exposed to LifeNuts concepts, I would have never noticed these folks. Hell, I was one of them.
So as I bounded down Chicago’s concrete pathways, I began to feel a sensation I had never experienced previously. It was a sensation that perhaps only another runner or a fit athlete can understand. I felt a sense of freedom, a feeling of being fit and being able to move smoothly through the throngs of my fellow overweight Americans. I didn’t feel superior to them nor did I feel smug; rather, I felt fortunate, almost as if I had been given a gift of fitness that I wanted to share with them, although I’m not sure they would have been interested.
I wasn’t the only runner on the streets: there were a few others, some slower, some faster. A few smiled at me and I smiled back. And then another thought struck me: the financial part of LifeNuts. How lucky I was to be financially independent and be able to run in downtown Chicago in the midst of so many industrious souls on their way to their jobs. Would they, too, become financially independent someday or would they, like so many older Americans, have to work throughout their golden years? I wondered silently as I ran by them. On streets glittering with shiny BMWs, Mercedes, and other luxury cars and lined with shops touting expensive material possessions (Indeed one store was actually named “Material Possessions”), would these Chicagoans be wise enough to save for a prosperous retirement? Or would they cave into peer pressure, neglecting both their savings accounts and their waistlines.
Anyway, the experience of feeling fit – both physically and financially – struck me right between the eyes. I’m not sure if I’ve ever experienced those sensations before today. And it made me feel awfully good that I’ve chosen the LifeNuts lifestyle.
