Anybody who has ever heard me speak or has followed my writings over the years has heard me say more than once that “the mind quits first.” This may be an accurate reminder when the going gets tough and you tell yourself that you don’t have an ounce of effort left in you. But you soon overcome the impulse and prove to yourself that you do indeed have a little more left in the tank.
On the flip side, however, your mind can also be a deceiving piece of mental real estate that can lead you down a treacherous path that needs to be avoided. And this brings me to today’s title and my most recent “wake-up call.”
It was a sunny afternoon when I was taking in the view from my back porch while counting my blessings. That is when my Amish neighbor approached to inform me that he was going to finish baling the hay in my backfield. He asked with a hint of a smile if I could still toss a few 50-pound bales of hay around. I smiled back before politely reminding him I had 75 years under my belt. I knew I would be a wiser man if I kept counting my blessings while lounging on the porch.
He sauntered back to his four huge workhorses that were hitched to the baler secured to an old wooden wagon. Mark then fired up the four-horse-powered baling machine and commenced to attack the job all alone. That is when my 75-year-old mind kicked into rewind mode and instantly erased fifty years from my chronological age. “I can do this. What does age have to do with anything?” I said to myself. I got up, went out, and climbed up on the bouncing wagon ready to do some serious hay stacking. Marchev was back!
I’ll spare you the details, but after maybe 20 bales of tightly bound hay and a whole lot of shaking going on, I told Mark that this was not my most accurate decision of the day, week or month. When the four steeds came to an abrupt halt, I slithered off the wagon back onto firmer footing and slowly made my way back to safer surroundings.
I’ll speed this up. I took a nap. Went to bed early that night and woke up with a sore back as if I was just run over by a John Deere tractor. Hence the wake-up call. I am not as young or capable as I used to be.
Today’s message in a nutshell: Anybody who says that age is just a number is either not 75 or is full of “Amish exhaust.” When my mind told me I could play farm boy again, I should have questioned my intelligence. So, for the next few days, I will be walking around hunched over like I am carrying a 50-pound sack of potatoes on my sagging shoulders.
I can’t say for sure, but I truly believe I have learned my lesson as a result of my most recent wake-up call.
Mike Marchev is always looking for a few more proactive travel professionals to join his Sales and Marketing Club, mike@mikemarchev.com.
*** You want more to think about? Check out my weekly podcast (Miked Up Marchev). Also listed on Spotify, Apple Podcasts, Google, and iHeartRadio.
