A few years ago my son, whom I love, pressed me to quit smoking. He had been asking me to for years. Many times before my son was born I had tried and failed. I was resolved to the fact that I would smoke until I died.
Since the day he was born… and everyday after… it has been a joy and a blessing to be with my son. I love every minute of it. Even the frustrating ones. The idea that smoking would cut my time with him short began to eat away at me. My father had died from cancer long before my son was born . This also weighed on my mind.
I had heard of a magic pill that could help. I made an appointment to see a doctor. I went in for tests and to have blood work done. A week later I met with the doctor. I was over weight, had high cholesterol and was close to diabetic. Magic Pill ? No magic pill. Not for Fatty…The best the doctor would do was to suggest the patch.
So I did what I should have done in the first place, I went to God. The patch lasted a week. After the first three days of not puffing I knew I was done. God delivered. The patches I just threw away. For thirty- two years I had puffed like a locomotive and I was free.
I went to my son and told him that he was right. I was wrong. Then I wanted to take it a step further. Not only do I not want my son not to smoke, but I want him to swear off alcohol and drugs as well. We talked about these things, we visited my fathers grave, and I also got us each yellow Livestrong bracelets.
I was very familiar with Lance Armstrong. Having lost a loved one to cancer I was very supportive of all Lances efforts. I can not tell you how devastated I was to find out that apart from surviving cancer all his efforts were based on a lie. Next year it will be 27 years since my father died. My son will enter high school and I will turn fifty. What I was hoping to use as a standard both for my son and myself is gone. The yellow Livestrong bracelet got cut up with big old scissors.
God of course lead me to think of what I really wanted for my son and myself. I was thinking of the things I liked when I was my sons age.
When I was in 8th grade Arnold Schwarzeneggar had released his autobiography, the documentary “Pumping Iron” was in theaters and “The Savage Sword of Conan” was the thing to read.
It wasn’t until 1982 that Hollywood realised what we comic fans already new. Frank Franzetta’s and John Buscema’s image of Conan was realized by Arnold in “Conan the Barbarian.”
Arnold and the pumping iron crowd were on steroids like Lance. No help there. The answer was in the character of Conan himself. That was where I heard the “PING.” Strength, speed, flexibility, endurance and stamina was the answer.
That is Conan.
For the last few months I have been experimenting in the gym and the kitchen. The program I developed for myself and hopefully my son in what I call ” Hyborian Strong.”
Conan was born into the mythical age called “the Hyborian age.” It is an age were only the strong survive. To live in this age you have to be “Hyborian Strong.” Teams have jerseys, units have insignias, and armies have battle cries.
Hyborian Strong is about my efforts to get us into the best shape possible. It will also be about Conan.
I have ordered rubber bracelets. They say “Hyborian Strong.” They are green. They are the color of life. They are the color of vitality. They are the color of my sons eyes.
May the Love of Christ be with you always….
…Live long and Prosper
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