Journey to joy

The last few months have been tough. My sweet grandboy (now affectionately nicknamed Typhoid Lawson) gave me a tummy bug at the beginning of February. He was well in two days. I was sick for two weeks. That was followed by a string of UTI’s and other, nameless illnesses that parked my butt on the couch and led to endless Prime and Netflix streaming and mindless and mind numbing social media scrolling. I, the somewhat superior hold out against TikTok, began a TikTok extravaganza that I’m not proud of. Yes, I can dish the tea on WAY too much idiotic drama and am looking forward to the day I can do #comeoneileen. Seriously, wouldn’t watching a 62 year old woman Irish dance and drop it like it’s hot make your day? Yeah, mine too. I’ll work on it.

Anyway, the lack of physical activity since the beginning of February has taken a toll. I’m finally better, but the physical comeback road is rocky and pitted with potholes. Take yesterday, for instance. I walked in the morning for the fourth time this week. An easy, forty minute walk followed by some deep cleaning in my father’s-in-law’s part of our house. Thirteen thousand steps later, I was exhausted to the point of tears. Today, I’m sore all over. I even resorted to taking Advil earlier. What the what??? How did this happen? When did I get old?????

The worst part of all this is the toll inactivity has taken on my mental health. Not to get too TikTok-y, but I’ve gone to some pretty dark places in the last eight weeks. Like asking myself if this is just what it feels like to get old and thinking I’ll always feel like this. Like looking at the bleakness of life and wondering if this is all there is. Like looking at my life and thinking if I died now, who would really care for long or remember me or be thankful for my life. Like wondering if I’ve left any tangible evidence of a life well lived behind.

It’s troubling that a few weeks of illness and inactivity can spark this much mental distress. I’m thankful for my faith because, I promise you, that’s all that’s kept me sane. I’m also thankful for this time in my life, because, as James says, we should consider all troubles blessings. Such a difficult concept, but such an important one. Troubles like I’ve had the last few months make me thankful for good health and remind me that things could be so much worse.

I’m feeling better now, and, despite yesterday’s over doing, am progressing back to fitness slowly. I’m digging deep for that natural optimism I know is down there somewhere and I’m pushing my physical boundaries slowly and steadily.

The joy is there. I’ve just got to find it. The journey is always the best part.

Pure JOY

”Dear brothers and sisters, when troubles of any kind come your way, consider it an opportunity for great joy.“
‭‭James‬ ‭1‬:‭2‬ ‭NLT‬‬
https://bible.com/bible/116/jas.1.2.NLT

The Struggle is Real

Only those who will risk going too far can possibly find out how far one can go. TS Eliot

The comeback effort is plodding along, in a forward motion mostly, but there have been setbacks. I’ve had to press pause on swimming for now. I’m struggling with nausea after only a few laps, so until I can get that figured out, I’m staying dry. I have struggles with that when I strength train, as well, but I’m not in 10 feet of water when the urge to throw up hits, so there’s that. I’m narrowing down the possibilities, one of which is goop in my head. I’m working on clearing this up, but it’s springtime in the south, so we’ll see.

If I try to look too far ahead, I get overwhelmed with the very real possibility that I’ll never run again. It feels like I’m light years away from even a short run right now. My strength training and 40-60 minute walks take a lot out of me, and they’re really sloooooowwww. Is this what getting old feels like? See where I let my mind go?

I’m deploying all the tools in my limited arsenal to regain my health, whatever that looks like. Forty minute plods, baby strength training workouts with ridiculously light weights, and I’m looking forward to adding slow and easy cycling soon. It is what it is. I’m trying to embrace where I am now, stay consistent, and be optimistic about the future.

I do dream about running again some day and finding out just how far I can go.

Humble pie

I’m not a prideful person. Really, I’m not. But, apparently, God sees something in me that needs a dose of humility.

I’m aware that I haven’t run much in the past 8 years or so. I also know that I’ve never been fast and never been faithful about strength training. So, this year, in an attempt to reclaim my health, I’ve set some very achievable goals for myself. Strength training 3 days a week, swimming afterward, walking 45 minutes to an hour the other days, with my eye on dropping a little running into the mix by the end of the year. Doable, right?

Not being a gym rat, and having a deep aversion to gyms in general, I half heartedly decided to use the Y membership I’ve been paying for since October of last year. My man is playing pickle ball, which doesn’t interest me at all, so I strength train for 30 minutes, then swim with a goal of eventually swimming for 35-45 minutes.

I started last week and swam the first time on Friday. Geez. I forgot how hard swimming is. After 4 laps, I was tired. After 6 laps, I was nauseated and decided to cut my losses.

Fast forward to today, and I was able to swim 10 laps (or about 15 minutes) fairly easily and no nausea. I’m calling that a win.

I’ve never been competitive. My motto has always been to just try to be better today than I was yesterday. I’m struggling with this return to exercise, but I know that the end result will make it worthwhile.

That 45 minute swim and that one mile run seem really far away right now. I’ll keep you updated.

Just a boy excited about breakfast

Looking forward

In keeping with my resolve to write more, I’ve decided to share some of my other resolutions here. If nothing else, it keeps me accountable.

I’m currently at the beach on a much needed getaway with my sweet man for our 43rd wedding anniversary. We’ve worked a little, but mostly we’ve taken it easy, reading, walking on the beach, some mildly disappointing restaurant experiences (a completely different blog post), and polishing off our Christmas shopping. The last few months have been physically and emotionally exhausting, leading to some mild depression for both of us. We see the light at the end of the tunnel, though. I’m pretty sure it’s not an oncoming train, but we’ll have to wait and see.

Like a lot of people, I’m participating in Dry January. My drinking isn’t really a problem, but I like to have extended dry times to remind myself of that and to give my exhausted liver a little detox. Let me know if you’re participating in 2024.

I’m really focusing on my health in 2024. The stress and anxiety of the last couple of years have taken their toll on me, and I’m done with that. I know the way to better health and I’m resolutely on that path starting now.

I’m taking more pictures of me. I’ve avoided cameras long enough. No, I’m not crazy about my aging face, but dang it, it’s the only one I’ve got, and when I’m gone I want my children and grandson to have some pics with which to remember me. As a former professional photographer, I’ve always known better than to avoid the camera, but those extra pounds and droopy jowls made me do it anyway. Done. With. That.

I’m not going to let others tell me who I should be anymore. This means a conscious stepping away from social media and removing toxic people from my life. It also means taking a stand with some in my life that I’d rather not have confrontations with, but it’s time to stand firm.

I am a nerd, and after 62 years, I’m embracing that. If you follow me here, be prepared to see book reviews/recommendations regularly. I may have a “What Are You Reading “ post regulary. I love to get personal book recommendations. I also love PBS Masterpiece, and I may sneak in a recap of one of their amazingly well done shows. Right now, I’m looking forward to the new season of All Creatures Great and Small. Any other Masterpiece nerds out there?

2024 is nigh upon us. Here’s to the upcoming year.

Merry Christmas!!!!

Aging with grace

You know you’re getting older when you take a nap and throw your back out.

Yep. I did that just a few weeks ago. Don’t know how or why. But there it is. Four weeks later and I’m still channeling my Mamaw’s grunts.

So. Where do I go from here?

Getting older is a beautiful promise. But, it’s also a b**ch. There. I said it. I guess it depends on the day as to which one I subscribe to.

I’ve watched my predecessors. My parents weren’t much for movement and they died before they should have. My in-laws, on the other hand, have been movers all their lives, and at 87 and 86 are still going pretty strong.

My takeaway? Get my a** in gear.

So, I’m moving. So slowly it barely counts. I stretch every day. Most days, I walk twice a day. S. L. O. W. L. Y. Seriously, butterflies whiz past me. Still, I persist.

I’m not sure I’m aging gracefully, but I’m trying. And, isn’t that the most important thing? I’m barreling toward 60 on a trajectory I can do nothing about. After the last year, I really understand that I don’t know what the future holds. Two of my classmates (both under 60) died this week. Both unexpectedly. Holy crap!

There are no promises that we’ll age with grace. But, I think continual movement is one of the keys. So, I’ll keep moving, however slowly. I’ll keep stretching and walking and gardening and cleaning house. And, hopefully, I won’t throw my back out by taking a nap again.