THAT'S WHAT SHE SAID: I heard it clearly!

Some truths in life are hard to ignore!

The fact that on April 1, 2010 I start working on being 80 years of age not withstanding, I refuse to be old. Isn't it is an established fact that I am Walt Pierce?

Walt Pierce isn't getting old.

Men, hide your wives, mothers protect your daughters. Girls flee to the hills. Walt Pierce is alive and well.

After all, I did hike 600 miles of the Appalachian Trail when I was 65, that was only 15 years ago. You could have seen me on Good Morning! America.

I followed that up by backpacking the west coast of Ireland. I made another wilderness canoe trip with my youngest son, Todd, a couple years ago. I play banjo in a jug band on tv appearances. I call square dances.

I mean, I am still young and debonair, aren't I?

Duh, I think that's so. Isn't it? I've never been a self-doubter but, honestly, I've a reason to begin to doubt. No! Having six great grandchildren has nothing to do with it.

And, no, it isn't my bum left knee. I ran my last 5K when I was 70. It was great.

No, not the timing. I was not just dead last. It was worse.

I missed the last turn before the home stretch. Why did I miss it? The signs had been removed. As I "flashed" by, one of the guys in the truck gathering up the direction signs yelled, "hey, mister, are you in the race"? What a stupid question I replied from 25 yards going the wrong way. They apologized and informed me that I should retrace the 25 yards and turn left.

I hope the huge crowd that cheered me over the finish line and applauded loudy when I was presented the large "Best in Class" trophy understood that I had run an extra 50 yards.

Uh, you want to know how many was in my "class". That's not something I want to discuss but I will admit that the "Over 65 Class" wasn't all that crowded. Even the newspaper article was too gracious to mention my time or number in my class.

Unfortunately, when I started to train the next year my left knee refused to cooperate. Other than a new knee, which would be a bit drastic, the doctor couldn't do much for me although he would agree to therapy. My running career was over. BUT I WASN'T OLD. I mean, I could still dance. I just had a bum knee. Lot's of young people have bum knees, right?

What about my back? What about it. I've got one--one with lots of back bone. Just ask me. I'll be quick to tell you. Oh, you mean the ruptured discs? Well, yes, there's that. I've managed to rupture discs twice. BUT THAT DON'T MAKE ME OLD, DOES IT?

I mean, my son Mark ruptured a disc and, following surgery, ran the Marine Marathon in Washington, DC and he's still young.

Besides, I'm getting good at recovering from ruptured discs. The first time took me the better part of a year and the last time only put me down for about three months or so. Nah! That doesn't make me have doubts about getting old.

The torn rotor cup in my right shoulder? Well that certainly doesn't make me old. I mean I tore the left rotor cup in 1989 when I was a spry 58. Golly, that was twenty years ago. I had that one fixed. Took six months of therapy and it hurt.

I did have the right rotor cup checked but I explained to the surgeon that I just didn't have 4 to 6 months to spend in therapy. I was in training to ride a bike across the USA. Dr. Kelly understood and told me to come back if I changed my mind.

How did the cross country bike ride go? It was fun, great, something everyone should do. And, it was fast--in that I only made it across the California desert.

Twelve hours before I caught the plane to San Diego a cardiologyst informed me that if I let my heart beat get above 120 I would be subject to a heart attack. After I came home and had a heart attack, resulting from a side effect of a medicine for a virel infection, I was informed that the results of a weeks testing of my heart indicated that the cardiologyst was wrong.

So, once again I wasn't old. I'M THINKING OF AN ENCORE FOR THAT ABORTED BIKE RIDE. Stayed tuned.

You've seen me limping? Not to sweat! I tried "flying" again but made a tough, 3 point landing on the breakwall at Lake Erie. The first time I tried flying, falling through the roof of the garage, I make a "1 Point" landing on my feet on the lawnmower. This time I landed on my knee, my hip and my right elbow. Don't worry. The hip hurts less every day, the scabs are almost off my elbow and you can hardly see the contusion on the knee.

I'm okay. I mean I still have my hair and my teeth. Maybe not as much as I used to have but I still know how to twist and shout with a pretty girl. Uh, yell, it may be more of a clutching, swing and sway but it's my story and I'll tell it my way. TWIST AND SHOUT!

What has raised a doubt about getting old? It is a small, but important difference. ITS HOW THE GIRLS ARE STARTING TO TREAT ME.

THEY FEEL SAFE!

Carole, at Drug Mart where I pay my bills each month has started to call me "Sweetie". Thats what she said, I heard it clearly. SWEETIE! I hate it. Doesn't she understand that I am Walt Pierce.

I can cope with a bum knee, ruptured discs, torn rotor cups and the other aches and pains that 800MG of Ibuprufin 3xday makes just fine. Having cute little waitresses like Jessie or Dottie actually pat me on the shoulder and murmur sweet nothings is something I can't handle. More and more that sort of thing is happening. What's a guy to do?

Heaven help me, I may, uh MAY that is, be getting old!

Author Unknown:

"I still have a full deck; I just shuffle slower now"

God Bless