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| Walking in the rain |
This week, I got the least amount of exercise that I can remember getting in years. At first it was because I wasn't feeling all that well, and then we ended up with days and days of rain. In the old days, I didn't let a thing like that stop me, but that was then, and now I sit back in my favorite chair and watch some easy-to-forget episodes of whatever catches my eye. I am working on not feeling like too much of a sluggard. I did take a three-mile walk yesterday, finally, once the rain let up a little. It was actually lovely and reminded me how much better I feel once I get the juices flowing.
I am a bit of an addict when it comes to exercise, but I am also reaching the place in life where things are beginning to change. My desire to close all the exercise rings on my fitness app has fallen to a historic (for me) low point. So what, I say to myself, if I don't log as many steps today as I usually do? What is going to happen if I don't keep striving for some imaginary goal? I don't think anybody is going to think less of me, except maybe myself. It's a habit I think I began to develop many years ago, and now my life is beginning to wind down. If there is some summit I thought I'd climb, well, I already reached it and it's time to explore other possible goals.
I have felt this moment coming for awhile now, and I think this blog is one of the best ways to chronicle life changes, in my own humble opinion. Since I have been posting here, I have fifteen years of retired life to look back on, and compare the person I am now with the one who began to write back in 2009. Much life experience has passed through the river of time and now I am respectably old. Each year that passes by brings me closer to the inevitable demise we all meet. While I'm busy living my life, every day brings me closer to the final destination. I am beginning to understand why people get more philosophical as they age; it's an attempt to make sense of this short, exquisite period of time.
Your vision will become clear only when you can look into your own heart. Who looks outside, dreams; who looks inside, awakes. —Carl Jung
I was born in 1942, and when I look at stories from that period, I realize that I have been alive during what some consider to be of the most consequential and radical periods in human history. But maybe it's only because it's part of my lifespan, and that other periods have been just as consequential to those living during their times. I am a member of what is known as The Silent Generation, those born between 1929 and 1945, the post-World War I generation. My father was in the Air Force back before it actually was named that; was initially called the US Army Air Corps when my dad first joined up as a young man.
My dad was absent for long periods of my childhood, when he would be stationed somewhere, with periods in Europe and other places that I didn't even know about as a child. I learned what the acronym "TDY" means because that's where my father was when he wasn't with us. It stands for "temporary duty." But when I was little and asked where he was, Mama would tell me he was TDY and would be back in a few months. It seemed perfectly normal to the young girl I was back then. Didn't everybody's dad disappear for long periods like that?
I don't think of my dad much these days. He has been gone from this earth since 1979, when he died of a heart attack at the relatively young age of 62. Heart disease is rampant in my family, having taken both my parents and my son prematurely. In fact, it is the reason I began to exercise in my thirties: to stave off the inevitability of developing heart disease. Because of the evolution of statins, and because I have been a faithful exerciser for decades, I have not developed it myself. That I know of, anyway. My numbers are all good, and statins keep my cholesterol in check.
I sometimes wonder what my life would have been like if for some reason I didn't take up exercise. I well remember the day I decided to learn how to run for my health, and I slipped my feet into the first pair of running shoes I ever owned. I was in my early thirties, I think, and within a few days I had developed shin splints that kept me from even being able to walk, much less run. I went to a running store and was fitted with orthotics, which allowed me to jog without pain. I ran a few 10K races during my running career, and even tried to train for a marathon. I couldn't ever get close to doing that, though, because I would get injured in one way or another when I tried to increase mileage. But I did jog, and even run, for years.
These days I get my exercise through walking, mostly, and the occasional hike into the mountains with my fellow seniors. But that is beginning to change, as I find myself skipping the hard hikes that I used to love, and walking for a few miles at a leisurely pace has become my preferred exercise. Occasionally I try to pick up the pace because I know I should, but "shoulds" are beginning to fall away as I age.
Although I will probably never be a full-fledged couch potato, I'm trending in that direction. However, I really don't feel quite comfortable not heading out to the bus stop for a trip to town, or taking a walk in the neighborhood, before settling into my easy chair. That might change, but for now, I'm happily allowing myself to slow down.
That's it for today, my dear friends. Time is slipping by and I realize I need to do a few things online before getting up and out of bed. My dear partner still sleeps quietly next to me, my tea is gone, and I am feeling the need to finish up here. I'll explore this topic again, but for now, I'm needing to find where I left my impetus to get up and go! Wishing you all good things, dear ones. Be well until we meet again next week.
13 comments:
DJan, your discipline (and stamina) have always both impressed and intrigued me. How do you do it? My own mom was only 2 years older than you (she was born in 1940) but has been gone 20 years this December. Most of us take our health for granted until we can't. What you've accomplished is remarkable.
I suspect this is just a lull in your exercise routine. I cannot imagine you giving it up.
While I have never put in the miles you do, walking has always been my choice of exercise, for mental health as much as physical health. Now I have no choice but to slow down because of physical reasons, but my mental health suffers for it. I long to put on my walking shoes and just stride out in long, easy steps for miles. Since the rain has finally stopped I will get out this morning for the little over a mile I can do in the neighborhood, but those days of long easy strides are gone. I mourn that.
I was born in 1944, so I am now an octogenarian too, so I do have permission to slow down, and I am. Acceptance is the next stage.
Walking is also my preferred exercise... although I don't do it as often as I should. It's too hot here to walk the neighborhood now, but we try to walk at the mall and the Senior Center twice a week. I was born in 1945 so next year is the big 8-0. But I've been lucky and don't have any problem walking... not yet anyway. If I lived by the ocean, I think I'd walk a lot more... for more than the physical exercise.
I'm also a 1942 babe, and agree that we Silent Generation have sure had incredible things happen in our lifetimes! Incidentally, didn't you mean we are post WW I, not WW II? I have had to curtail a lot of activities, and am so grateful that the bones are still holding me up, and the muscles let me walk as much as my limiting factor will allow. For me, my lungs became the weakest link in my health. You never know what parts will be the ones needing the most attention! As whole women, we do have the experiences that we can share with those who might wonder what our lives have been like. For that reason, I always look forward to reading your blog each Sunday.
I do love your posts and this is no exception. And am, as always, awed at your determination. You might be slowing down but you still do a LOT. A three mile walk is out of my reach I think though I do try and walk at least a little each day. Be kind to yourself dear friend.
I do more chores around the house than you. I never liked jogging or going to the gym. It is better to do chores.
I don’t take long walks any more. I could do 12-16 km a day. Then my back and legs gave out. Short walks suffice. Embracing what I can still do is the key for me. You too, by the sound of it.
Slowing down is wise thing to do when your body tells you. there are many other satisfying things that you can do. We don't need high intensity exercise when we're elderly.
You are listening to your body and doing what you are still comfortable with so that's perfect! I think you enjoy your more leisurely walks when you don't go on the big hikes. They do you a lot of good and you don't have to pay as dearly for them for a day or so--lol! Sounds wonderful. I know you will keep moving. I kept thinking you might get back to some form of exercise classes again after the Covid scare died down. Who knows what might pop up before you. :)
I remember shin splints, even from walking and even when I was still a teenager.
DJan, In my opinion, you said it perfectly, “… for now, I'm happily allowing myself to slow down.” John
I am of your generation, just a bit older, and for the past two years I have had to slow down far more than I wanted. Knee surgery and then falling and breaking my shoulder, well I am still in recovery mode. But iI force myself to try to walk some every day even when the bed calls me to lie down. Great post, DJan.
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