Use It While You Still Have It

Mitch Arnold • November 3, 2024

I started taking my cane into the gym with me last month. The decision was really a non-brainer, but it’s not one that I took lightly, because I’ve learned that when you let go of an ability, it’s hard to get it back.


The cane goes with me now, because my legs become more fatigued more quickly than they once did, and when that happens, my back and hips seem to seize up. Twice recently, my legs simply refused to move during my regular exercise routine, and I had to ask one of my gym friends to help me walk to a place where I could sit down and regroup. That was humbling, but it seemed like the less humbling option, when compared to the very real possibility of falling on the floor and injuring myself.


I felt this coming on for the past year, and had even adjusted my routine to limit my steps between stations, but I resisted using the cane. Unlike my slow acceptance of a wheelchair, my resistance to the cane wasn’t driven by foolish pride. It’s not like my cane suddenly alerts those around me that I have a handicap; most are amazed that I’m able to walk at all. No, I left my cane in the truck for the past few years, because I knew that when I started using it routinely, I was going to have a difficult time not relying on it.


Many of us think that we’re going to sail through life doing the things that we want in the ways that we have always done them. Few are so lucky. As we age, most of us will experience a progression of lost ability. The losses usually don’t happen overnight, and are sometimes so gradual that we don’t even realize that they are happening. First, we’ll notice increasing difficulty, which leads to grumbling about getting older. Eventually, we’ll enjoy our favorite activities less frequently, until one day when we unceremoniously stop doing them altogether.


Golf was that way for me. I enjoyed nearly twenty years on the course, starting at age 12 with my grandfather and a set of second-hand clubs. A couple of years later, I found myself on the high school varsity team, competing on various Central Nebraska courses. I wasn’t very good, but I enjoyed competing and being on a team with my friends, something that I didn’t have a lot of opportunity to do.


Years later, in a stroke of luck, my unremarkable high school golf experience earned me the opportunity to coach golf at the high school that hired me to teach right out of college. It was then that I embraced the sport and even dreamed of teaching my own children how to golf. That never happened. Instead, my handicap eventually made it nearly impossible to enjoy time on the course. That frustration culminated with me abandoning (half-way through) the last round I would ever play.


It's now been more than twenty years since that final round of golf, but I remember it like it was yesterday. When I put the clubs away that day, I didn’t know that it was the final time. I figured that I would try again next season, and it would be better. Next season never came.


The memory of that experience was with me during my first week in the gym with my cane. It’s a new reality with which I have gradually grown more comfortable. Instead of obsessing about my fading abilities, I can focus on exercising safely while holding on to what I can still do. Though the cane reminds me that things are different, I’m thankful that I’m still able to exercise.


I share this experience not looking for sympathy, but rather hoping that it will help you appreciate what you can do and that you do it to its fullest while you still can. If you’re fortunate enough to still enjoy participating in a sport, don’t stop until you have to. If it has been a while since you have gone on a walk, don’t wait. You don’t know when going for a walk will no longer be an option. The same with travel. Do it now, while you can still enjoy it. Don’t put off the things that require a healthy body, because that can quickly disappear.


Life is precious, and our bodies will eventually make us realize that. Don’t wait for that moment. Take the initiative now to capitalize on all that you can do while you still can do it.

By Mitch Arnold April 6, 2025
I lost a close friend to cancer last month, and though sadness will always linger, it’s overshadowed by the gratitude I have for his friendship. Yes, his early death seemed unfair, unusually cruel and senseless, but his approach to life, especially during the dire situation of his last months, was nothing short of inspiring. Jamie was only 47, which is about eight years younger than me. He was a husband and father of three young girls who have yet to reach high school. He was also an integral part of a very close and loving family. Because he was one of those guys who made the world a better place everywhere he went, his network of friends was massive. Always a positive and cheerful person, he became even more so after his stage four cancer diagnosis. I remember exactly where I was and what I was doing when he called me with that crushing news, on a Sunday afternoon, a little more than six months ago. While I was shocked, he was remarkably upbeat. He said that he felt good, and that he had a plan to attack the cancer. “I’ll be OK,” he reassured me, before hanging up. Still, I called him the next day. I had to make sure that he was really OK and to reassure myself that I was doing everything I could do as a friend. “Just pray,” he said, when I asked him if there was any way that I could help. He went on to tell me how he had begun to embrace religion, even before his diagnosis, and that a priest was helping him sort out his emotions and stay positive. Also on his side were all of the people – friends and family alike – who loved him. He said that so many people were praying for him and doing nice things for his family that it was almost overwhelming, but that he appreciated each and every one. He told me that he could feel the effects of all of those prayers, and that it was helping. Unfortunately, he wasn’t able to recover, and cancer won, which left many of us sad and searching for answers. My initial emotions were heavy on the frustration and sadness of losing a friend way too early, but the more that I thought about Jamie, the less that I thought about his final battle. Eventually, I focused less on his death and more on his life. Jamie’s time with us was full of life and love, and cancer shined a huge spotlight on that. Even during that challenging time, he was the same cheerful person who was more interested in the people around him than he was of his own struggles. As we gathered to celebrate his life, there were smiles and laughter among the tears. Because he lived so fully and loved so deeply, we all had happy stories to tell and memories to embrace. Jamie showed me many things through our years of friendship. First and foremost, he showed me that it’s important to live every day to its fullest. No matter what he was doing, he was doing it with a smile and genuine enthusiasm. He seized every possible opportunity to enjoy life, even during those hard months at the end. Second, he showed me the power of love. He cared deeply about his friends and family, and he not only said it, but he showed it too. That love was reciprocated, especially when the end was near.  Jamie set a standard that we should all aspire to. If we can treat every day as a gift to be treasured, and seize every opportunity to show love to those around us, we can make the world around us a better place, just like Jamie did.
By Mitch Arnold March 2, 2025
Nebraskans experienced what seemed like an entire winter in two weeks last month. Those, like me, who have been around for decades of Nebraska winters recognize that winter can be much harsher and last a lot longer, but for those two weeks, winter misery prevailed.  Then, it suddenly changed. In just a few days, we went from sub-zero overnight temperatures to temperatures in the sixties. Many areas experienced 70-plus temperature changes from one week to the next. The change was remarkable, and it not only melted the snow and ice, it also quickly erased our memories of the misery we felt just days before. Life is often like that. We can get so bogged down in difficult times that we can’t even imagine brighter days. Then, when brighter days happen, our memories mercifully tamp out the misery. The challenge is to resist unhappiness and frustration during trying times, and to remind ourselves that brighter days are ahead. It’s an exercise in hope, and one that’s crucial to our happiness, especially when things are not working out the way that we want them to. Amid the miserable weather of those two weeks, while the snow and ice kept me homebound, I slipped and fell when getting out of the shower. That left me with a diagonal slash across my back, sprained finger and deep bruising on my right hip and foot. Fortunately, no emergency room visit was needed this time, and I was able to continue on with my day and week, albeit much sorer and slower than usual. The worst of the injuries happened to my already weak right side, and resulted in that leg being much tighter than it normally is, which made getting around even more challenging than it already was. As always, I don’t share these challenges looking for sympathy. Rather, I want to acknowledge the occasional suffering that happens behind the scenes for all of us. Most of us try to put on a brave face and keep our problems behind closed doors, but everyone endures tough times at one time or another. It’s during those times that we need to find hope and optimism, and the best way to find hope and optimism is to focus on brighter days ahead. Like the weather, our fortunes can quickly change. I focused on that as ice and injury kept me homebound. I’ve been injured before and stuck at home by weather before, but rarely at the same time. In fact, the timing was quite convenient. Since the weather was already keeping me in, I could use that time to heal. Admittedly, those days were not without frustration and sadness, but I fought off those feelings with hope and optimism. Hope and optimism are almost always more elusive during difficult times, when we need them the most. That’s why we must make a concerted effort to summon them. If we don’t, we risk unnecessarily prolonging misery. As the weather improved, so did my body, like it had hundreds of times before. Before long, I was back doing the things I normally do, and my confidence level inched forward, as I proved to myself that I could survive another challenge and the brighter days I imagined came to be. If you are going through a difficult time, remind yourself that tough times never last, and that brighter days are ahead. If you do that enough, it becomes a defense mechanism that you can refine and use each time your days darken.
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