Sometimes, I wish I had taken better care of my body when I was younger.

I’m not talking about suffering from something like heart disease caused by a lifetime of smoking, indulging in overly fatty foods and considering exercise as “from the bed and to the table.”

What I’m addressing are the aches and pains that come from years of believing I was indestructible and the re-incarnation of Superman.

I say that as I sit at my desk in the evening with cane at the ready, receiving pain messages from a sore back that decided last Saturday to give me trouble when I woke up and hasn’t stopped. I don’t know what caused this latest episode. I know part of it is due to lower back problems that have been diagnosed through MRIs and the probing and mashing of my back by several doctors. It’s all a plot by my body to get back at me for the abuse I put it through in elementary school and high school.

There must be some hidden, undiscovered gene in the male body that makes most of us feel we can walk through brick walls, jump over things twice our height and lift things three times our weight.

My medical history is an example of the male macho hormones at work:

• Age 10: Broken collarbone — football.

• Age 12: ruptured blood vessel in the leg, several sprained ankles, possibly a concussion. That was from playing football and before people realized how important taking care of the brain is. Also include in this period from 12 through about 15, numerous jammed and sprained fingers from playing basketball, baseball and softball.

• Age 18: Sprained right ankle (football again; a pickup game), which became the size of a grapefruit and put me in crutches for a month. Try crossing the LSU campus (or any college campus) on crutches.

• Age 49 through whatever: Carpal tunnel syndrome — both wrists. Degenerate disk, lower back; three bulging disks, lower back. Don’t ask how I got them; I don’t know.

• Age 64, broken right ankle — the same one I messed up in college.

That’s the inventory. I’m sure there are others out there whose litany of breaks, sprains and strains are far longer than mine. After the ankle, I realized it was time to slow down and take better care of myself, just as many other men my age have done. Some males, however, never stop being stupid. All you have to watch some of these so-called reality shows or funniest video shows to see male recklessness at its finest.

Me, I’ve had my time and I’m slowing it down, much to the enjoyment of my wife and daughter.

I’m putting my stupid away and try to act a little more responsible when it comes to my body and caring for it.

In two months, my mother will be 93. I want to be able to live that long. I hope my body will cooperate.