I run in the wee hours. 2:00 am. Impossible any other time out here. It’s Monsoon. Like running with a hot, wet towel over your face. It’s on the dance card, so let’s do it.

Most mornings, I see my friend Al sitting out in front of his garage. In pain. He can’t sleep so he pulls guard duty on El Camino.

I don’t stop all the time, but this morning I did. Al was in an excruciating way. The low back and legs are shot and all they’re doing is pumping him full of dope. I know the feeling

Al doesn’t move around much because he’s afraid he’s gonna fall. Shirley can’t help him, she has her own problems. She ain’t moving either. She has her own dope.

Al says when he is able to ambulate, he feels a little better. The blood gets moving and he gets some relief. I promise I’ll swing by later and get them some exercise.

As I run off down the road, I start thinking about how if we all just moved around more, a lot of physical grief and agony might be avoided. Works for me.

We are made to move. We have to. Things get brittle. The pulleys, straps and levers start to malfunction. Then comes the pain, the pills and dependency. And such helplessness, I see it in his face.

Yes, we need to keep moving, like the shark. If sharks stop moving, they drown. They’re in perpetual motion. We need to shake it and keep shaking it.

Else…? We spend the years we were so looking forward to in pain and misery. They didn’t mention that in the your retirement plan.

When I got home I could barely contain myself. I was bubbling. I opened up Photoshop and got to work on this logo. Endorphins strike again.

Sharks, perpetual motion and less pain. This idea was worth a sweat bath. And believe me, I’m running with this concept. 🙂

OK, sharks….?

Please note: I welcome comments that are offensive, illogical or off-topic from readers in all states of consciousness.

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