Men, we'd better listen to Sholeh

How are you feeling, guys?

It probably ought to be better.

Hopefully, the male portion of today’s audience read Sholeh Patrick’s column in Tuesday’s Press. She reminded us that while leading up to Father’s Day this weekend, we’re supposed to be “celebrating” Men’s Health Week.

Actually, statistics and studies regarding how guys take care of themselves is more of a warning than a cause for celebration.

The bottom line is that we’re doing a crap job of keeping ourselves healthy, and dying sooner than women — not to mention sooner than we would if we were doing anything about it.

Disclaimer: I’m certainly not one to preach.

I’ve taken my health for granted most of my life. I have a thin frame and never gain too much weight. I’ve been an athlete who played organized sports well into adulthood — and then became a runner who breezed easily through a couple of marathons.

And yet all along, I haven’t done a damn thing about my long-term health.

Honestly, I took it for granted.

I’ve eaten junk food my whole life. I consider vegetables as needless gunk that clogs up a dinner plate.

Here’s a common day: Bagel and coffee in the morning, no real lunch, Subway sandwich or frozen pizza for dinner, then maybe dozens of those rippled potato chips or some gelato if I’m on the computer or doing some reading at night.

If I’m out and about, a huge Mexican meal is perfect — and I can eat all the chips and salsa that will ever be served.

For all eternity.

Or perhaps I’ll stop and wash down a pastrami and coleslaw sandwich from one of the San Francisco Sourdough Eatery shops around the county.

Liquids?

Yeah, I know we’re all supposed to drink gallons of water because it’s good for us, but I think water is boring.

I’ve been a Diet Coke guy most of my life.

NO QUESTION, my diet has been horrible.

My only salvation to this point has been physical activity.

When I lived in Scotland, if I wasn’t traveling for work, I played golf — walking, no electric carts — about three times per week.

And since I often didn’t have a car, I walked to the shops and pretty much everywhere else.

I haven’t quit, either.

In fact, I just walked 18 holes of golf here at Twin Lakes Village — fully approved by my neurosurgeon, who insists that golf is a perfect exercise for someone recovering from a spinal fusion.

Yes, my first real surgery.

Despite my healthy mindset (and personally workable diet), things have begun to go sideways.

Besides those back issues, I’m scheduled to have a pre-cancer prostate biopsy — if I can find the courage to show up.

Oh, and I’m due for another colonoscopy.

Something also went wrong with my feet for no particular reason, and a doc says I have peripheral neuropathy.

So …

No, I don’t just bound out of bed in the morning anymore.

Sure, this is about getting older. Things start to break down, kind of like your 1997 Buick. It needs care and maybe some work.

As Sholeh pointed out, so do men.

We need oil changes and probably somebody looking under the hood — just to stay on the road.

I’m going to take that advice seriously and listen to my mechanic.

You lads might think about it, too.

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Steve Cameron is a columnist for The Press. A Brand New Day appears Wednesday through Saturday each week.

Email: scameron@cdapress.com.

Twitter: @BrandNewDayCDA