I was reminded this morning of a man who had died while camping in the desert of Nevada in the summer. Long story short, the desert killed him. The family took solace in that he died doing something he loved to do even though he knew it was dangerous, camping in the desert.
I hope, that when my own time comes, my loved ones won't get hung up on the idea that I died because I was fat. I have been camping in the desert (metaphorically speaking) for almost fifty years now, if it kills me, I will have died doing something I loved.
(sorry if people think this is morbid and get bummed out)
I hope, that when my own time comes, my loved ones won't get hung up on the idea that I died because I was fat. I have been camping in the desert (metaphorically speaking) for almost fifty years now, if it kills me, I will have died doing something I loved.
(sorry if people think this is morbid and get bummed out)
