You’re doing what?

As a stroke-survivor with slightly compromised speech — my ability to string words together for speech, and/or talk fast, is slightly defective — I tend to avoid conversation.
I had just finished working out on a cardio machine in the Exercise-Gym at the Canandaigua YMCA, so I turned around to grab paper-towels and PakIt to wipe off the machine.
Behind was another stroke-survivor, one of many I see there, pumping a step-machine.
Every stroke is different, so even though he appears quite normal, he lost part of his vision.
His left side. There’s no brain-tissue to process it. It got zapped.
I usually don’t say much to him, avoiding conversation, but this time “Hey, old buddy; how ya doin’?”
“Okay.”
“We’re still alive,” I said.
“I visited my cardiologist the other day,” I said.
“Oh yeah? Wha’d he say?”
“‘You’re doin’ two 35-minute cardio sessions three times a week at age 66?’”
“Sure,” I said. “Why not?”
“Do it or start falling apart,” I thought later.
Same with climbing steps.
The Canandaigua YMCA has a giant concrete staircase in front of its Atwater St. entrance, perhaps a 15-20 foot rise.
I ascend these steps two at a time.
“What are you doing that for?” people ask. “That’s the equivalent of an exercise workout.”
“Because I still can,” I answer.
“If I stopped I’d get so I couldn’t do it.”

• I had a stroke October 26, 1993, and it slightly compromised my speech. (Difficulty putting words together.)
• I work out in the Canandaigua YMCA exercise-gym. (“Canandaigua” [“cannon-DAY-gwuh”] is a small city to the east nearby where we live in Western NY. The city is also within a rural town called “Canandaigua.” The name is Indian, and means “Chosen Spot.” It’s about 15 miles away. —We live in the small rural town of West Bloomfield in Western NY, southeast of Rochester.)
• Bottled “PakIt” is the spray-cleaner they use.