I was going to name this blog the "Running Therapist", it is good that I haven't. I haven't run now for nearly two weeks. This morning I was determined to go out for a run, then I looked outside. It was a bloody typhon! Losing my motivation to go I decided to hit the treadmill. Treadmills suck. But I pulled through, gasping and wheezing like an old fart.

Well it is a new ball season and again I am faced with my failing age. I believe I have cracked the tip of my pinkie and did something else to the knuckle. There is a constant ache, especially when the weather turns.

I have descovered that I can't be a rosey glasses kind of guy. The world does not allow me to live like that.

In a Postmordern world, what does "God is love" even mean and is it applicable.

Forgive the randomness of babbling old man. Hope there is excitement that comes your way.