As if you hadn’t already noticed, I’m a beer-loving and occasionally wine-dabbling habitué of all manner of bars, pubs, taverns and adult watering stations. They’re the only locales on Earth where I feel truly comfortable.
But there’s even more to it. Emulating other renowned Falstaffian trenchermen in fact and legend, I live to eat and not the other way around.
Given these compulsive proclivities of heightened caloric intake, potential weight gain tops the list of occupational hazards. Fortunately, my above-average height has been very useful as parlor trick, enabling me to creatively distribute many of those inconvenient excess pounds on an angular frame.
While remaining aware that inexorably advancing age brings with it varied and sundry health-related booby traps, my fitness motto has remained unchanged: If I feel good, then it’s all good.
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