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It seems the older I get, the harder it is to get into shape without injuring myself.  Within the last couple weeks, though, I've been attempting to get back into shape.
           This morning, after dropping my kids off at school, I meant to workout, but I was unsure as to which muscle groups.  I went for a bicycle ride for a bit of cardio and to get the blood flowing before lifting weights.  Instead of a helmet, I wore a bandana on my head.  'Helmets are dumb!' 
           As I peddled, I tried to decide on my next work out.  Was it a shoulders and back day?  Leg day?  Chest? It could have even been an arms day.  It's a very important decision.
           Bicycling through grass, toward a sidewalk, most of my front tire disapeared into a deep hole in the ground, which I'm assuming was left there by recent construction work in that area.  I went soaring over my handle bars .  Luckily, I hit tall, soft grass.  My elbows hit first, then my helmetless head planted into the ground.  I quickly recovered, stood, looked down at my bicycle, laying on its side, and realized the front wheel was bent.  I also realized I had landed next to the sidewalk and was lucky I planted my head into the soft grass instead of the hard pavement.  It occurred to me that this was why many cyclists wear helmets.
           Unable to roll the bicycle on the warped wheel, I proceeded to carry my bicycle a mile back to my place.  The frame is unusualy heavy for a bicycle frame.  Carrying it in front of me, my arm muscles burned a moment, then ceased burning, and something about the way I was carrying the bicycle seemed very familiar to me.  I then reflected back to my deployment to Afghanistan in 2010, and I realized I was lugging the bicycle in the same way I used to lug my MK48 Machine-gun for miles through afghan mountains.  Most machine gunners used their sling to carry their guns, but I had removed my sling, insisting on carrying the heavy machinegun at the low-ready, like a rifle.  On top of carrying 500 rounds of 7.62×51 on my back, I hated the extra pleasure a sling put on my shoulders.  At one point, during the deployment, a fellow machine gunner noticed my arms looking cut:  "Marty, ever since you took your sling off your gun, your arms are lookin' cut."
           So, as I lugged the bicycle a mile back home, my worst injury being a grass burn on my left knee, I had two major epiphanies:
            Epiphany 1:  Helmets are still dumb and I won't wear one.
           Epiphany 2:  It's an arms day.
It seems the older I get, the harder it is to get into shape without injuring myself.  Within the last couple weeks, though, I've been attempting to get back into shape.            This morning, after dropping my kids off at school, I meant to workout, but I was unsure as to which muscle groups.  I went for a bicycle ride for a bit of cardio and to get the blood flowing before lifting weights.  Instead of a helmet, I wore a bandana on my head.  'Helmets are dumb!'             As I peddled, I tried to decide on my next work out.  Was it a shoulders and back day?  Leg day?  Chest? It could have even been an arms day.  It's a very important decision.            Bicycling through grass, toward a sidewalk, most of my front tire disapeared into a deep hole in the ground, which I'm assuming was left there by recent construction work in that area.  I went soaring over my handle bars .  Luckily, I hit tall, soft grass.  My elbows hit first, then my helmetless head planted into the ground.  I quickly recovered, stood, looked down at my bicycle, laying on its side, and realized the front wheel was bent.  I also realized I had landed next to the sidewalk and was lucky I planted my head into the soft grass instead of the hard pavement.  It occurred to me that this was why many cyclists wear helmets.            Unable to roll the bicycle on the warped wheel, I proceeded to carry my bicycle a mile back to my place.  The frame is unusualy heavy for a bicycle frame.  Carrying it in front of me, my arm muscles burned a moment, then ceased burning, and something about the way I was carrying the bicycle seemed very familiar to me.  I then reflected back to my deployment to Afghanistan in 2010, and I realized I was lugging the bicycle in the same way I used to lug my MK48 Machine-gun for miles through afghan mountains.  Most machine gunners used their sling to carry their guns, but I had removed my sling, insisting on carrying the heavy machinegun at the low-ready, like a rifle.  On top of carrying 500 rounds of 7.62×51 on my back, I hated the extra pleasure a sling put on my shoulders.  At one point, during the deployment, a fellow machine gunner noticed my arms looking cut:  "Marty, ever since you took your sling off your gun, your arms are lookin' cut."            So, as I lugged the bicycle a mile back home, my worst injury being a grass burn on my left knee, I had two major epiphanies:             Epiphany 1:  Helmets are still dumb and I won't wear one.            Epiphany 2:  It's an arms day.
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