Yet my frame is somewhat narrower than the best atheletes, and because of this my lung capacity isn't as large as it would have to be for, say, marathon running or prolonged swimming. Shorter bursts of terrific speed were my forte` in soccer and football, and that was fine. ... But it always made me very conscious of how vital my lungs are to me, even in their less-than-optimal size.
Combine this constant reminder with another constant reminder: My mother has been smoking for over 40 years, and has completely given up on the idea of quitting. She supposes she'll die from it, now. She doesn't run, she doesn't jump, she doesn't dance, she doesn't sing ... the oxygen debt of any of these things would probably put her into cardiac arrest, for all I know.
And now, I read THIS
and I get SO FUCKING PISSED OFF.
Those are people I know, people I met in college, people my age and younger, people who are going to grow up and become my mother, and they just don't know any better. Why don't people get this information? "Oh the warnings are so overblown and it's all inconclusive and etc..." My uncle didn't quit until he started coughing up black sludge. It took that big of a sign for him to be convinced.
And of course, everyone in LA smokes ... because they've never breathed clean air in their lives; they don't even know what it's like...
Pardon. I'm going to work on my mixdown some more, and mess with tax documents and pack bags. Just had to get that off my chest.