My oldest friendship. A tragic loss!

I first met my friend Tim in 1973. We were in Boy Scouts together. He was a year ahead of me at school, but we shared some classes. We both had a love of bikes and all things mechanical. We were obsessive about it and always carried a Swiss Army knife and a 10” Crescent Wrench in our pockets so we could disassemble whatever mechanical thing we may have come across. We both went on to become highly competent mechanics of bicycles, motorcycles and cars. We would skip school and go on adventures on our bikes. At the time, the old California State Fairgrounds were very near by and had been abandoned. There were lots of "truant officer free" paths in there. Back then the entire American River was open to bikes and cars so we would spend time there too.
Beginning in about 1974, we introduced some new elements into our social life. Beer and pot! On Friday nights we would wait outside the local corner grocery store hoping someone would buy us a quart of beer. Someone always did. As time progressed, so did we. Friday nights turned into Friday and Saturday nights. Then came hashish. Later cocaine and LSD. For him, crank came on the menu too. I never liked it because it felt like a hot nail being shoved up my nose. We smoked cigarettes too.
Once we got our drivers licenses we stopped riding our bikes and began to gain weight. Tim was heavier than me. When I turned 18, I went into the Army and they kept me pretty fit. I quit smoking for nearly a year. A bike was my main transportation and I continue to ride to this day. When I got out three years later, Tim was ten pounds heavier.
He continued to drink every day, and overeat, and smoke cigarettes, and smoke pot, and snort crank. For the next thirty years he continued to indulge himself daily. Never exercising. Constantly gaining weight.
We kinda' lost touch for the last fifteen years or so. I would see him a few times a year. Our paths would cross at the post office or the market and we would chat for half an hour then walk away promising to call, but never actually calling. Our friendship had evaporated in time.
One day there was a knock at my door. It was Tim's sister. After thirty-five years of self indulgence, Tim died of congestive heart failure at age 51. He weighed over 300 pounds and hadn't gotten any exercise in years. He left no progeny and all you can say about him was that he was a good friend to those close to him; he was really smart; he had really great hair; and he really knew how to party!
What can we take away from this story? Friends, live a fit and active lifestyle! If you're overweight, change your habits and become more healthy. Get some exercise. Become an athlete. Eat right. Quit smoking and drink in moderation. Live with your health in mind.
If you're a friend and you need a companion to keep you motivated, we can set up some time. I'll help you in whatever way I'm able. Sign up for a 5k run (that's 3 miles) and train for it. Get a bike. Do something to get your heart rate up every day! I would much prefer you show up at my funeral than me at your's.