Aging gracefully behind the paddle, your thoughts?

I call it the mind-body gap. I’ve been known to fall into many a time as I’ve moved through my 70’s. At 81 I limit myself to about 1 hour of paddling at a time. Wind this morning was only 4 mph. Going out against the wind and coming back with it, launching from a Permalaunch, putting the kayak back in it’s spot in an outdoor marina -my arms and legs are a tad bit fatigued.

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** I**buprofen: Well known as “vitamin I” among marathon canoe racers.

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Not always.

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My drug of choice.

And infantry soldiers.

“Ranger Candy”

In the last 10 years I have probably consumed a Pamlico 14 full of ibu.
Easily at least a five gallon pail.

J

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Well, my Great Grand Dad told me “The first 120 years were the toughest, but after that it’s not as bad”

I am striving earnestly to age as disgracefully as possible.

I am not superstitious, but it just occurred to me that the years where the digits in my age added up to 10 (19, 28, 37, 46, 55, 64 and now, 73) have tended to include significant and positive life milestones. This one is turning out very well so far.

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My pain is temporary . I’ll be done with it when I die.

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Pain is weakness leaving the body. At least that’s what I used to say when I was younger and wearing combat boots.

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Maybe not.

50th anniversary of the discovery of ibuprofen: an interview with Dr Stewart Adams - PubMed.

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Since this thread started I have become less graceful.
Just dragged off the upper Klamath River by the OR border. It was fast, big and pushy. Mostly a long series of Class III rapids that are usually move like II+. To be honest, it was scary and a lot of work. My days of running rapids are coming to an end. The old bridge abutments were terrifying at these flows. My brother smacked the concrete holding up the I-5 bridge but avoided getting pinned. I sneaked it by wading a fast side channel and my leg is still swollen and purple after 2 weeks. .

Now floating calm rivers is starting to sound like the right idea. Salmon fishing on the Sacramento R maybe.

I’m aging like a bull in a China Shop. It ain’t pretty, but I guess it’s fun enough.

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Aging like a bull in a china shop?
A hooked-on plate tectonics tempest in teapots non-stop,
per broken bone china battered up to great wall,
place setting fragged with fretting this might come to a full stall.

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So as you cycle twice more nine you’ll be aging nice like wine?
Whilst thrice more doubles up those zeroes to find one their centennial hero?

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Vitamin I! Vitamin I!
We just might blow this joint,
n’said I want one more there guy.

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Are you okay?

The devil you say.

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