"Take care of your body -- it's the only place you have to live." -- Mr Jim Rohn Of course, survival of the fittest in the original Darwinian definition refers to 'fitness' in the evolutionary-biological sense... so the phrase means [at least in my understanding] that those most likely to survive in nature tend to be those who are most easily able to adapt themselves to changes... and therefore 'fit' best. It doesn't mean: "survival of the strongest... so I'll be utterly selfish and tread on the weak bastards." [As practised by some of my least favourite people.] It's in interesting point, psychologically, because I've found that the more I'm able to react and adapt to setbacks and changes of circumstance [something I am not a natural at] the more content and happy and calm I'll be. Moving along, though... we come to Buffy's personal fitness, which is much less interesting to evolutionary biologists! After a few one-off try-outs in January, today marked my first 'jogging' day. My delightful chum and fellow blogger Professor Lovely [aka Summer of the 'Summer SHINES' blog] has inspired me by her devotion to the RED January, and I thought, "why not?" I used to be a runner. Not a professional one, but a rather good one, if I say so myself. Haha, I'm able to toot my own horn because the important part of the preceding sentence was "used to be"... when I was good, I was a mere child in my early 20s. Now I'm a seasoned old duffer in my late 30s. But my legs still work, so I've no excuse. I'm not in bad shape... but I'm not particularly fit, either. And I'd like to be fit... or else my lifestyle of excess might start catching up with me[!] I'm not a fitness freak and sometimes shudder at the idea of 'healthy living', which goes against my pseudo-hedonistic ideals... but as a realist [such as I am], I'm prepared to admit that being healthy is a hell of a lot better than the alternative. Anyway, half an hour ago, I did it... my first 'proper' run since 2014. -- I did about a mile. [On and off...that's my limit.] -- I didn't have a heart attack. -- I didn't have a panic attack. -- I didn't run into a tree. -- I wasn't laughed at by children. Conditions were not ideal, however: throughout my whole jog, it didn't stop raining. Peeing it down. Chucking buckets. Piss from Heaven. "Apres moi, le deluge" ... as they say in Swindon [and possibly Paris]. But I'm content. Pleased with myself. Happy I did it. Anyway, in my head, now, I hear my own, tired voice: "Never again..." Then I hear Professor Lovely's voice: "You WILL do it tomorrow!" ...So I don't have a choice, do I? So anyway... thank you, Professor. You might not be having the best day today, but your shine is definitely shining in the world.