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“Sir Winston Churchill was an inveterate enemy to all physical exertion that went by the name of exercise. He attributed his productivity in life to his physical indolence and once gave the advice that you should never stand when you can sit and never sit when you can lie. He did much of his work in bed.” PJ Lifestyle.

Hi folks! Welcome.

MRI images of thigh region to show effect of exercise on muscle mass. These images say it all when it comes to the benefits of exercise as you age.

Winston Churchill, though revered, never struck me as a very happy person, but I’m sure he had his reasons. I suspect, however, that lack of exercise and poor diet may have contributed to his general lack of lightness of spirit, though he was a great humorist. Very much alive, but not very alive, in my opinion.

He ‘hated’ exercise!!!

I know other people like that, but I’ve noticed that they pay a terrible price for their physical indolence later in life - their bodies, and with it their joie de vivre, go down the tubes. Not for me the road taken by Winston, even though this guy contributed in a major way to my survival of World War II as an infant.

Here is a relevant story from my younger brother, Trevor (aka PoetMorgan), though none of us are so younger now. He placed this fascinating vignette on one of the comment streams of this blog, which I very much appreciate:

“IN early 1960s I visited Janet [our elder sister] in North London. I walked a long way back and near Finsbury Park I stopped and waited for the lights to change so I could cross a main road. A limo stopped in front of me and there was Churchill. As I was in uniform I saluted. He looked through me like I was not there. The traffic was heavy and very slow and he looked really bored then. Even when bored he had very penetrating eyes. He died not so very long after that.”

Trevor informed me that the last words of Winston Churchill were, “I am bored of it all.” Do you want to end up like that? I’d rather follow the advice of Dylan Thomas:

“Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.”

But then again, instead of raging, why not follow the dying words of the Tibetan monk in Jitterbug Perfume, by Tom Robbins, Erleichda. Which loosely translated means “Lighten up!” Rather than raging, try skipping, instead.

One last thought on dying words, which is nowhere near as interesting as living words, quoted from Jitterbug Perfume, via Hamilcar’s Books:

So! Don’t forget to skip, even if you just skip in your mind like Jean-Dominique Bauby, author of “The Diving Bell and the Butterfly: A Memoir of Life in Death”

It’s hard to be bored or unhappy when you skip.

But then again, don’t skip if you have an abdominal aortic aneurysm - bad idea! Low impact only.

-k @FitOldDog

 Important Note: These posts do not provide medical advice. You should always consult your physician before undertaking or significantly modifying an exercise program.

Copyright © 2010 Kevin T. Morgan aka FitOldDog, Old Dogs in Training, LLC.