The Power of Imaging
The older I get, the less I’m motivated to get out on the trails and do a “health slog,” which is what I now call jogging. So, not wanting to mortify myself by the embarrassing exposure of my old bird-legs with all those “very close” veins, I began to do a little research on alternative ways to achieve my former level of fitness, without having mothers hide their children behind their skirts as I floated by.
What I discovered, quite by accident, was an exercise method that would let me get a good, sweaty workout without ever leaving the comfort of my lawn chair. It’s called “imaging,” and it’s roughly a way to use your deepest mind to create a picture (image) of what you want to transfer to a real-life medium. It’s a science that’s enjoying rapid growth among engineers, computer geeks, artists, and all kinds of creative people. I just took it a step farther by using my mind as an imaginary TV screen to project my innermost desire into real-time experience. It’s complicated, but I’m ready to start marketing this new innovation as soon as I can find some financial backers.
Here’s the way I’m making it work, and I’ll use my new daily five- mile image-run as an example. First, I’ll get togged out in my regular running gear: Asic shoes, a paid of semi-spandex shorts (I’ve gotten really buff, you see) and a shirt that bears my personal logo, which is “Image This!.” Then I saunter out to the patio and do a few minutes of stretching, being careful not to overdo and cause any muscle strain. In order to create the right mood, I head for my favorite lounge chair and ease into it, taking care not to spill my Corona. Then I’m ready for the run, and I tune the mind-receptors into my favorite five- mile course, which takes me south down the runner-friendly sidewalks to the nearby city limits, where I can “open her up” and do some hundred-yard intervals before settling into a moderate 8-minute mile pace. So far I’m feeling really good, hardly breaking a sweat and not even breathing deeply. God, it’s good to be in shape, I keep thinking.
At about the two-mile point, I do my first turn, a square-out 90- degree bend to the left. This is my usual choice, since I don’t like to run across a traffic lane. The vehicle operators all know me, and I get a lot of friendly waves. Oh, a few fists shaking at me as well, but there are always a couple of grouches out there. Just jealous, I guess. One more mile and then I’m ready for the last left turn and a cruise to the finish. I’m feeling great, maintaining my pace and taking in the great scenery, but that’s when I hear a menacing growl from behind a farm fence, and two angry-looking pit bulls are funning toward me, heads down and ready for the attack. What to do – fight or flight? My rabbit-like instinct is to put it in high gear and try to outrun them, a silly reaction, I know. These mutts would be on me in a heartbeat, and they’d hamstring me from behind and take me down.
But then I remember that I always carry a small spray can of ammonia, for just this type of situation. Turning to face these angry dogs takes all the courage I can muster, but I pop the can open, give it a few shakes, and aim it dead at the nose of the lead dog. He immediately stops dead in his tracks, giving me a shot at the other one. The ammonia does its job on the other one. They retreat into the pasture next to us, and I’m out of danger. My adrenalin is flowing so hard that I hardly realize I’ve increased my pace to a dead sprint. Well, it all counts for the five miles, so, hair flowing freely and now sweating pretty hard, I give it a good burst and before I know it I spot the house a hundred or so yards away. I reduce my speed to a cool- off pace, and arrive home just about in time to pop another Corona.
So what do you think? I share this with you, because along the way I had an inspiration and I’ve decided to incorporate and sell stock in this, my life’s project. You have my particulars, so if you’re interested in getting in on the ground floor of a bonanza, give me a call and we’ll get you on the list to be a primary investor. I figure in about six months we’ll have an IPO and sell the remaining shares for a price that’ll make you all rich. “Image This” needs your backing!
George Thatcher, 2022 Hair’s on Fire
George is an American Bad Ass. He grew up in Jersey, flew B-52s in Vietnam, taught English, Spanish and other languages to children around the world, makes his own salsa, has been known to enjoy a beer or two and has called Lubbock home for a few years, just to entertain the locals. Welcome to Raiderland, Major. We are going to feature some of his writings going forward. Some new, some old. Some rhyme, some don’t. When it comes to George, there’s no box. So… enjoy our friend and enjoy his writings! – Hyatt
