Watching the Winter Olympics reminds me afresh that I am not an athlete. I will never swoosh and carve my way down slopes of sugary snow to a proud place on the podium. I will never have an athletic shoe named after me. No cereal box will ever sport my smiling face.

Still, I trot laps around the health club each morning. Daniel Webster says that to trot means: to go at a gait between a walk and a run. That pretty well describes what I do…and I do it as fast as I can.