As a child filled with energy, my legs carried me to the baseball field where I usually played center field because of my speed.
As a boy I loved to run and my legs would oblige me, helping me burn off my large reserves of energy.
As a teenager I suffered at the hands of bullies and when a group of them came after me, my legs helped me escape from their clutches.
As a young unmarried man, my legs carried me down many lonely streets at night as I longed for a wife who would love and cherish me forever.
As a happily married minister, my legs carried me to the pulpit where I preached and hoped the Spirit would send my words into the hearts of the people.
As a reviewer, my legs got quite a workout in Hollywood when I strolled around large movie lots looking for the offices of television and film producers I was to interview.
As a middle-aged man, my legs climbed the sacred mountain known as Ayers Rock in Australia, and in Japan helped me move around the gardens of Kyoto amidst falling cherry blossoms.
For a lifetime of reading books, my legs have kept quiet and in one place. Thousands of hours spent watching movies in cramped seats in crowded theatres has put a strain on my legs.