Brian Keaney

Month: July, 2012

Feels pretty damn good

Yesterday I marked a milestone in my life, and closed by saying that “at least medically, I’m probably as good as I’m ever going to be.”  That may or may not be, but I would hope that in terms of physical fitness that I am still improving.  I finally made it back to the gym tonight after a week or so absence (this not working from home thing really eats the hours out of the day) and think I posted a pretty respectable time in a pretty tough workout.  At the very least, I beat my brother-in-law, so I was happy.

In any event, after the WOD, and then some birthday cake, I returned home to find a number of text messages waiting for me.  One was from a cousin who loves to remind me of  just how old I am, and she pointed out that today, the second day in a row for me, marks an anniversary.  She asked: “How does it feel to be a decade past your 21st birthday?”

I would never give her a truthful answer as I don’t like to use that kind of language to begin with, and as a rule avoid it while speaking to the fairer sex.  She asked a question, however, and even though it was designed to antagonize me I still thought it deserved a response.  Remembering that I need to keep a positive outlook on the growing number of candles that appear on my cake, I responded thusly: “Feels like I could out run you, out party you, and drink you under the table.”

I can say all three things – to a collegiate athlete in the NCAA record books, no less – with 100% truthfulness and confidence.  She wants to know how it feels?  That feels pretty damn good.


As good as I’ll ever be

My idea of universal healthcare.

About this time last year, I was lamenting the fact that I have led a pretty mediocre life, but resolved within a decade to do something great.  This weekend, and more particularly today, it hit me just how long – and short – a decade really is.

Once again, for my birthday, I received as a gift the rental of a jet ski on West Dennis Beach (And a toy – a really cool one with which someone post-30 wouldn’t be embarrassed to play.  At least I won’t be.)  During my ride, in full view of my family, I hit a wave the wrong way at speed and went tumbling ass over teakettle into the ocean.  It was, quite nearly, exactly how I fell off a jet ski on July 9, 2002.  After that accident, which I still remember with painful clarity, I got back onto the ski, took it back to shore, and someone pointed out that my lifejacket was covered in blood.

That night, in addition to getting a cute nurse’s phone number, I also got stitches in my chin – sans Novocaine, as I don’t believe in medicine.  Aside from having my blood pressure taken during my several trips a year to the Red Cross, and an ice pack and a brief cognitive diagnostic when I hit my head skiing hard enough to cause memory loss, it was the last time I received any kind of medical care.  As I’ve said here before,

It’s been more than a decade since I have been for a physical, and even longer than that since I’ve taken any kind of medicine.  I figure that if I am sick, I will go to the doctor’s.  If not, I am not going to waste my time having someone poke and prod me only to tell me what I already know, that I am healthy.  Even when I got the flu for the first time in my life, and had a fever high enough to make me delusional, I still refused pharmaceuticals.  A couple oranges, a bottle of Irish whiskey, and I got better.

I still “ain’t as good as I’m gonna get,” but, at least medically, I’m probably as good as I’m ever going to be.