I went to the doctor for a checkup the other day. Everything was going along smoothly. Then the nurse took my pulse. “That can’t be right,” she said to herself as she readjusted the finger monitor.
It beeped for a second time, and again, she was caught off guard. “41. You must be a runner.” I smiled. “Well good on you.”
So what’s the big deal?
Just to be clear, I don’t run–I jog. When I lace up my shoes, I do so in the spirit of survival, not competition. I turned 40 a few years back, and like many men my age, I panicked. If you don’t believe me, just look at the results of any local 5K. The age groups really begin to stack up around 40 and above.
I just started using 
