In The Big Inning...

I think I'm actually starting to get old. It's not because I'm losing my hair, and it's not because I hate every single stinkin' song that's played on the radio. No, it's because I'm actually starting to feel pain after physical exertion. I used to be able to drive to a softball game, and, without stretching, sprint down to first base, with no ill effects. But, for the first time recently, I believe I pulled my hamstring a month ago. It wasn't that painful, but I couldn't run all out, and I'm slow enough as it is. But it doesn't stop there. I mentioned my shoulder pain, which I actually decided to see a doctor about, and as I type this, I've just come home from playing 4 softball games in one night, and my legs are really sore. I don't do this to whine about the pain itself - it's really not that bad. But the existence of pain, the fact that my body just can't do whatever the hell it wants (and it's not like I do crazy things - I don't smoke, I don't drink, I don't skydive, I don't take naps in the middle of interstates, so I don't feel like I'm asking that much of my body) with impunity really disturbs me. It didn't used to be this way. And I don't like it. Pretty soon I'm going to start driving slowly, and not hearing things properly. I'm not a patient fellow. If I ever start driving as slow as some of these people, I may just have to kill myself. I'm going to go buy some cyanide capsules just in case. I hope I'll have the mental faculties to know when life isn't worth living any more...around the time that just getting up from a chair causes me to bitch and moan.