The benefits of aging

I have been on Medicare for more than a year now. My supplemental plan includes lots of benefits Medicare doesn't, many of which are preventive. My gym membership is free, which is pretty cool, and I found out late last year that I'd signed up for a rewards program that I promptly forgot about.

By the end of the year, I had enough reward points – even though I'd done very little to earn them – to "buy" a pedometer. The only reason I got it was to earn more points. I've had a FitBit that tracks my steps for a couple years now.

At the rate I'm earning points this year, I can "buy" a new FitBit – I have the clip-on kind and I've been wanting a bracelet – by the end of February.

I'm on it, doggone it! It's very motivating to me work for a little goal like this. Not so little, really. The retail price of the FitBit I want is $150. I wouldn't spend that much money on a device that duplicates something I already have that works. But I would definitely spend points on it.

Of course, there are disadvantages of aging, as well. Body parts wear out (and you don't have to be really old for that to happen, I realize that). I'm going to the dentist again today for the first step in replacing four teeth, one of which I think I could pull with absolutely no problem. Before the extractions happen, I have to have major scaling and planing (deep cleaning) on the remaining teeth which will eventually support the new partial denture.

Today is day 3 of the Whole 30. Yesterday's meals were on plan. Intentional activities also went well. Because of the dentist appointment this afternoon, I have to be super organized this morning in order to:

• Get dinner in the slow cooker
• Do a load of laundry
• Clean the floors
• Walk on the treadmill

I guess if I'm going to be on-it-doggone-it for today, I'd better get busy.

Don't forget to be kind. Today and always.

So, yeah, about yesterday

While I hadn't made a public commitment to return to posting daily, I'd hoped to. Yesterday kind of got away from me. I even had to reschedule a haircut because life got, um, rather complicated.

As I got ready to run some errands and go to a meeting in town yesterday morning, I remembered there was no gas for the mower. Our rainfall totals have been impressive the last three or four weeks, following a July in which I cut the grass just one time. One more fill-up should do for this season.

So I headed out to the garden shed to get the gas can. The combination of wet grass and a hole in the yard (hidden by – um – grass), had me flat on my face before I knew what was happening.

Because I was in a hurry, I simply got up, grabbed the gas container, went back to change my now grass-stained shirt and went on my not-so-merry way.

When an older person (I'm 63, you be the judge) falls, alarm bells go off. Where does it hurt, are there any broken bones, what about scrapes and cuts … I didn't think of any of that. I just needed to GET GOING, so that's what I did.

It didn't take any time at all to know I didn't break anything. Hours later, though, I noticed a scraped knee and began to feel some discomfort in my hip and lower back. I've prescribed myself two Aleve daily.

Because you know what? I don't feel like an older person and I don't fall like an older person. All that walking – which is weight-bearing exercise – is good for not just my internal organs, but for my bones as well. My last bone density test showed the bones of a woman decades younger than I am – a 20-year-old, instead of 60-something.

I didn't walk yesterday. I'm not sure about today. Might be a good idea to give it a rest. I'm going away for the weekend and will have some lovely and safe walking routes where we're going.

One thing is for sure: I will pick myself up again and again. And I'll keep on walking.

It could just be my age, I guess

I'm doing much better the last few days, energy-wise, than I did last week, although I do tumble into bed pretty early. But given that I'm in my 60s and pretty active during the day, I don't think that's anything to worry about. I'll have my thyroid checked in November, when the hospital offers a low-cost screening to the public. If I went now, I'd have to pay full price because I haven't met my deductible.

And I hope I never do. But I guess as one gets older, the likelihood of having something wear out or go wrong increases. For most older American's, it's inevitable.

I believe, however, that if I continue to move my body and nourish it appropriately, I can delay the inevitable. Maybe forever! Heh.

My walking goal is still within reach, even after missing a few days. I need to log 4.575 miles per day, every day, for the rest of the year to get to the magic number, but since five miles seems to be my minimum daily requirement, and I occasionally go six or eight, I can still hit it. And if I don't? Hey, I'm walking a lot more than most 60-somethings. But I don't want to fall into the trap of settling for less.

Yesterday was a very busy day. Here's what got done:

Recycled a too-big pair of
denim capris I used to wear.

• Walked six miles
• Trimmed the tomato plants
• Spread compost around the tomato plants
• Planted a row of cilantro
• Planted a partial row of basil
• Pruned the redbud tree
• Pruned the blackberry bushes
• Made a pair of jeans for an American Girl doll
• Started making a pair of sandals for an American Girl doll
• Cast on for a knitted t-shirt for an American girl doll
• Fell into bed at 9 p.m.

We won't talk about what didn't get done.

Yesterday's weather was pretty near perfect. Today will be hotter and more humid, so if I'm going to get anything done outdoors, I'd better get it done earlier rather than later. There's so much to do. It just never ends.

Well, until winter.

Hope your weekend was as productive or restful as you wanted or needed it to be!

Your recent comments have been most welcome. Thanks for taking the time and – for Denise – the extra effort of switching browsers. I appreciate it.

I'm not as young as I used to be

Nor are any of us, obviously.

My Sunday began early, after a somewhat sleep-deprived Saturday night, and ended late, as I knew it would. It was a long day of driving, driving, driving, lunch, long meeting, driving, driving, driving. The second driving part was fun because I had the company of a real live adult who talks (unlike my husband, who is more, um, contemplative when we're traveling together). The morning drive went fine because I caught up on the Moth. (My husband's contemplation isn't enhanced by podcasts when we're traveling together.)

The lunch was basically make-your-own sub sandwiches accompanied by cole slaw and cookies. How very not paleo. I skipped the bun, naturally, and ate lots of processed meat, something I'm not used to at all. Another member of our group has also been following a more natural, gluten-free diet and we agreed we did the best we could.

Both of us were ill yesterday.

I'd love to, sometimes, go back to my younger days when I could bounce back easily from a long day of stress and bad food.

I think those days are, sadly, behind me.

Feeling better today, my goal will be to walk and work outdoors, a repeat of Saturday. I hope your day goes well for each of you!

Morning is breaking

Now that day is breaking a little later, I'm waking a little later than I did all summer. Since I still go to sleep at about the same time, that means I have less awake time than I used to. Which is fine, it's not like my schedule is filled with to-dos which absolutely must get done before the day is done.

My daily walk/jog/run is THE must-do daily activity. Here we are, more than a third of the way through the ninth month of 2013 and I have already nearly accomplished my 1000 miles-in-2013 goal.

I'm gobsmacked!

I've missed a few days, and will no doubt miss a few more, but it hasn't been and won't be because I want/ed to. I've either been ill or on the road. Nothing else has stopped me. There have been days when I just haven't felt like it, but once you get going those feelings go away.

They really do.

And, of course, I've also managed to figure out a way eat that, combined with daily activity, has helped me shed some of the weight that has held me back and down nearly all my life.

I've never been able to set a year-long goal and stick with it. I'm not sure why, other than that I, along with most of the rest of us, seem to have evolved into a want-it-now, instant-gratification society.

So what happened this year?

I think the biggest factor is – and this might sound silly, I know – I qualified for Social Security this summer. My first benefit was deposited in July. Being old enough to collect Social Security means I'm most likely a good three-fourths or, perhaps, two-thirds of the way through my lifetime.

My children live in two different states, and each have children of their own. I don't want my old age to be one in which either my children or my grandchildren need to be my caretakers. I'd love to be that little old lady who still puttered in the garden and cooked her own meals and posted her daily photo to Facebook and blogged until the day she died.

I realized as I approached the magic age of 62 that I won't be that little old lady if I don't do something about my physical condition.

The combination of

1. finding a food plan that works and
2.  a daily activity as simple as walking 

has finally resulted in a weight approaching normal. And I'm finding muscles I haven't seen in years. Literally years.

One thing I've mentioned to real-life friends, particularly those who wonder how I can live without bread or cheese or cake, is that I've eaten bread and cheese and cake before. I know how they taste. I'm sure I'll eat them again, given a long enough life. I started out not eating bread or cheese or cake for 30 days. Five months later, the benefits of NOT eating those things far outweighs the pleasure I might get from having them, even once in a while.

And now, having said all that, it's time for my walk.

How I know summer's over

Summer technically began June 21 and lasts until September 22. Really, though? It started on Memorial Day,  just as it always has, and it ended last night. (Sometimes the Memorial Day holiday also falls on my birthday, so we could just say summer starts on the day I was born. OH YES WE COULD.)

It's August 28. Three weeks of summer remain. Why do I say it ended last night? Because I drove home from my volunteer gig at the prison in the dark. SOB!

The more birthdays I celebrate, the more I avoid nighttime driving. It wouldn't be right, though, to leave the other volunteer carrying the meeting by herself until daylight lasts beyond 8:30 p.m. (Probably wouldn't be very good for me to go that long without a meeting either.)

It won't be long before the leaves
begin to turn and fall.

So I made that drive a little more slowly and a little more carefully last night, watching for deer (there are far too many this year, many more than I ever remember) and listening to Dylan.

There are plenty of good things about summer winding down.

• Fewer bugs.
• Less humidity.
• Cooler temperatures. I'm not old enough (yet) that I feel "chilly" all the time.

I'm anxious to put the vegetable garden to bed this year, as I didn't get much from it and it's pretty weedy and ugly right now. I never did finish weeding the herb bed, so that's on the fall garden chore list. (I also didn't mow yesterday – who wants to cut grass when they have a cute new 'do?) I'm even anxious to cut back the perennials, pull the weeds out of those beds and just move on with autumn.

I'm definitely NOT a fall gardener.

Cooler weather puts me in a knitting mood, too. I made a couple shopping bags this summer, but now that some of this weight has been released I want to knit for me-me-me. During the recent stash room purge I found several balls of a wool/cotton blend called Europa in a tweedy blue colorway that is slowly-but-surely becoming an On-the-Point vest. I hope it will be finished for the state Democratic women's convention next month.

And, of course, fall = FOOTBALL and football = lots of knitting time.

Seriously. What's not to love about the end of summer?

New challenge. And a dose of gratitude.

So I managed to walk/jog/run 130 miles in July, which helped me hit that 700-mile mark for the year. What better way to celebrate August than to go for 150? That's only 4.838 miles a day – let's just call it five, shall we?

We'll be going on a short trip later in the month, but I'm pretty sure we'll be able to manage a couple fitness walks among the other touristy walking we plan to do. If I throw a couple six-milers in each week, that should take care of an unplanned rest day.

But since I'm streaking (18 straight days so far), I'm not planning on having any unplanned rest days, either.

I was sitting somewhere yesterday – can't remember if it was in the car or in a chair – and felt a little itchy right between my shoulder blades. So I scratched that spot, and then realized that was something I didn't used to be able to do. It had more to do with shoulder pain than mobility, but 40 pounds ago I had to ask for help. 

When I get down to brass tacks, I think not wanting to ask for help – not wanting to need help – pushed me to try Whole30. I seriously did not want Velcro sneakers, but I was seriously having trouble lacing up my Brooks Adrenalines.

Like most women my age (62), I'd like to look as young as possible for as long as possible. I've been blessed with youthful genes. Most people are surprised to learn I'm in my 60s. But more than not looking my age, I don't want to feel my age. Here in southern West Virginia, 60-year-olds use walkers and ride scooter chairs in the grocery. They tote portable oxygen tanks with them wherever they go.

Some of the health problems in the aging population here are due to work conditions. Retired miners have lung problems, and retired loggers have been injured on the job. But far more age-related health issues are due to lifestyle.

West Virginia's obesity rate is third in the country, behind Louisiana and Mississippi. Thanks in part to the pepperoni roll. The  gooey, doughy, cheesy West Virginia concoction came out on top this year in a national competition of favorite state snack foods. (Our local Amish neighbors have learned how to make them; only glazed donuts are a bigger seller at the bakery.)

West Virginians smoke. A lot (we're 9th in the country).

It's difficult for the average Joe or Jane to get out and walk, particularly in hilly, rural areas which don't have sidewalks and do have one-lane roads. 

My mother, her mother and my father were very good examples of how I don't want to age. All were obese, all smoked, all died due in large part to health conditions which could have been prevented.

I'm glad I've finally found a way to get and stay fit and active.

Oh, and to scratch my own back, too.

Things I love

My job
I'm going to be so sad not to work at the garden center any more. My responsibilities this year have been opening in the morning (just two days a week) and watering everything, as well as helping customers and keeping things tidy. I haven't done a lot of potting, and that's fine with me. I like doing that, but I really like watering. I get to see every single plant in the nursery, what's new, what's doing well, what needs some attention … and especially what would look good in my own landscape!

XL T-shirts
I love how an XL tee covered a multitude of lumps and bumps when I was fat(ter), and now that I've dropped a few pounds makes me look kinda skinny. For instance: a collarbone peeking out of a too-big V-neck. Never thought I'd see that again!

Coffee
Especially hot coffee, ready and waiting in an insulated carafe, every morning. And the coffeemaker loaded and ready to go when I finish what's left in the carafe. Courtesy of my husband.

Pulling weeds
I don't actually like the pulling of the weeds, but I LOVE the result. It's been too hot to work on the weed project this week, but temperatures will be going back down to reasonable after today, and I'm very motivated to finish the herb bed and begin working on the vegetable garden. I saw an almost-ripe tomato out there yesterday!

Running
Wow, do I love running. Although I'm really still at the jogging stage. Maybe I should just call it "picking up the pace." My husband loves my running WAY less than I do, and cautions me DAILY to 'take it easy,' 'be careful,' 'don't hurt yourself.' I am careful and I haven't hurt myself, but I have to admit I haven't really taken it easy. I try to challenge myself, especially on Cto5K training days. I've been inching up the hills at a slightly faster pace, running halfway up some that I could barely walk up six months ago. Progress!

The hummingbird feeder
This has been the best $7 I've spent in a long, long time. Those little guys are SO entertaining! I've seen as many as three at a time, and there are only four feeding stations. Why did it take me so long to jump on the hummingbird-watching bandwagon? Maybe I thought that was something old people did. Even if it is – and even if I am – SO WHAT? I'm delighted. A shout-out to my friend Lynne, whose hummingbirds charmed and inspired me to the point where I had to get my own feeder. (She probably didn't want me as a nightly dinner guest, either.)

Fresh flowers in vases
I love flowers more than I ever thought I would. When I began gardening in earnest, I was all about food. Heirloom tomatoes and several varieties of squash and unusual (at least for me) beans. The vegetable garden these days has been pared down to a minimum, and the flower beds have taken center stage. I love bringing an armful of black-eyed susans or hydrangea blooms inside to brighten up our dining-room table. Next year's vegetable plot will be cut in half, to make it more manageable. It's that getting-old thing.

Getting old …
and being healthy, pain-free and able to enjoy finding new and interesting ways to fill my days. I'm not really old, right? Sixty-two is the new 50. RIGHT? I'm sure not getting any younger chronologically, but I feel better than I did when I was 61, so there's that progress thing again. HOWEVER … my first Social Security check gets deposited in less than a week. That's the kind of old-person benchmark I'm happy to claim!

YOUR TURN
One thing … what do you love? Don't think hard about it, just leave a quick comment. What have I forgotten? What would you add? What's on your list?

It's the heat. And the humidity.

Mostly the humidity, lately, as I don't think we've even hit 90 yet.

I work Wednesdays and Thursdays from 9 a.m. to 1 p.m. Generally that means "the cool of the day." I try to walk around 7 a.m. on those days, to avoid having to get it done later in the afternoon, when the heat has built up and my energy is at its lowest.

[Aging sucks, y'all. I shouldn't be complaining, since I'm still upright and breathing, but my stamina and endurance just aren't what they used to be.]

Maybe as I continue to lose weight (how's that for confidence?), my comfort level will increase. For this summer, though, I'm going to have to manage my walking time carefully. Earlier is better.

Early happened yesterday, but even though I said I wouldn't melt in the rain I apparently thought I might, as I turned around at the three-quarter mile point, logging 1.5 miles yesterday morning. It rained nearly the entire time I worked, so I paced back-and-forth inside the sales building for 15 minutes before deciding that might be a little compulsive. When it wasn't raining too hard I could check things off the to-do list – stick cuttings in dirt, tidy up the displays – and we even had a few customers. (Deer repellant is flying off the shelves.)

To up the weekly mileage, my husband and I decided to take advantage of a lull in the storms and take a longer walk. We left the house at 2 p.m., or "the heat of the day." Probably not our best idea. We lasted three miles and called it enough. I collapsed until dinner time and collapsed again after dinner, completely wiped out.

I'm beginning to wonder if I need to take a vitamin.

At least on Wednesdays and Thursdays. Heh.

I managed to get a tiny bit of landscape gardening done as soon as I got home from work. (I've just about given up on the vegetable garden, but maybe this weekend I can tackle some of the weeds.) I have brick planters in front of my house on both sides of the porch, which are in shade most of the day. I've spent tons o'bucks on shade shrubs over the years, but nothing survives.

Year before last I planted some hostas, and this year I've added more to the collection. I needed to move one yesterday to make room for an additional one, and I stuck a couple pink astilbe toward the front. Hopefully everything will survive and thrive. I'm happier with the planters this year than I've been in all the time I've lived here.

Sometimes you just have to give up what you'd like and accept what works.

The reward at the end of the day

Yesterday was a pretty busy day for me. As I've gotten older, my energy level has diminished significantly, enough that I really, really notice it. I sometimes have to step back and look at the fact that I am, in fact, in my 60s, not my 40s, and one's energy does diminish (usually) with age.

So the fact that I

• did four loads of laundry (bedding and linens, no clothing)
• line-dried most of it
• took care of a couple little nagging chores
• vacuumed the entire house
• walked for two hours (6.2 miles – a 10K!) and 
• prepared a home-cooked meal (chicken with peanut sauce and rice) 

proves that yes, once in a while, I can still get things done.

The reward was going to bed early, one of my favorite things to do. Heh. (That's kind of a joke; I always go to bed early and spend an hour or so reading. I have little interest in television these days.) I had a little trouble actually getting to sleep last night, though. It might have been the aches and pains that are a natural result of walking 14 miles in two days.

Or it might have come from inhaling the scent of sun-kissed sheets every time I moved. Ahhhh.

The dilemma du jour

Do I keep doing the Up and Running program, even though I've been advised to repeat week three and everyone else is beginning week five? Or do I put the program aside indefinitely and wait for the various aches, pains and maladies to exit my body.

Keeping in mind, of course, that on my next birthday I will qualify for Social Security benefits. The aches, pains and maladies, just like the hits, will more than likely keep on coming.

The program, if you're not familiar with it, consists of eight weeks of guided workouts with the eventual goal of running a 5K. I used to run and I love the idea of running again. The program was the bridge meant to close the gap between then and now.

But when I wake up on a Sunday morning with unexplained pain in my upper right arm, a creaking right hip and a general fatigue that I attribute to travel+illness, the last thing I want think about is following a running regimen.

That everyone else has lapped me already is a minor thing. It's not like I've registered and paid money to run a 5K the final week. But it's definitely a thing.

I can walk a 5K in less than an hour. I can walk five miles when I really want to.

Do I really need to run?

Aging gracefully

Looks like the issue which has sucked up so much of our time here in the Middle of Nowhere may be resolving itself, albeit slowly. One of the things which has come up for me, watching this situation, is how very much I don't want to put my children through a similar one.

I'm not saying my progeny wouldn't be willing to step in and manage my affairs if I were suddenly incapacitated. My husband would, of course, be first in line, if he were able. But what if he and I were suddenly incapacitated at the same time? Any one of us can be impacted by a random and life-changing accident, at any time. Some things are out of our control.

But most things are well within our abilities to attend to, to be responsible for, to take care of … so someone else won't have to.

My friend whose birthday cake I made yesterday (isn't it pretty?) will be 60 this week. I will be 61 at the end of the month (May 25, mark your calendars now!). We were talking about how our 40s and 50s had been pretty okay, all in all. My 30s were chaotic – I got sober when I was 39 – but hers were good. But this new decade is, um, challenging.

She's just discovered a chronic health issue which needs to be treated for the rest of her life. Nothing that can't be managed, but she's having trouble adjusting her dosage and managing the side effects.

I'm hooked on Aleve because of joint and muscle pain in my hip and shoulder. My left foot swells dramatically if I forget the daily Lasix. Sometimes it's difficult to get in and out of my car.

My friend suggested I take up yoga. Again. I've been an irregular yoga student for decades, but have never managed to make it a habit. She has. She simply gets up, does her practice and moves – moves – into her very busy and active day. Every day.

I start my day right here, sitting on my ass in front of a screen, drinking coffee and listening to the birds. Which is fun and all, and even peaceful. I'm a lark and my husband is an owl, so I feel completely justified in taking these early morning hours for me, me, me.

But she's right about the yoga. My excuse for not doing it is that even some of the simplest poses are difficult for me. My bigness gets in the way. But if practicing yoga, even a little bit, will help me move into old age with more independence and without needing my children's assistance, then I need to pay attention to that.

Sadie says it so much better. I've just written a long, rambling post (so what's new?) when I should have just pointed you to my inspiration for today. (Be sure to read her "About" page, too.) Sadie is my friend's daughter and is the in-house yogi for the Clif Bar company. I'm so glad I learned in AA to keep an open mind and to remain teachable. I'd hate to be one of those old lady dogs who can't learn new tricks, especially from a smart young pup like Sadie.

The sun is up. Time to salute it.

Don't get old

It seems that the older I get, the more winter weather affects my physical comfort. I'm not just talking about grabbing another layer of clothing to trap the heat, although I do that. I'm talking about the discomfort in my right hip, which I've been calling arthritis, although I don't have a real diagnosis. I'm 60, my hip hurts, why should I pay the doctor a hundred bucks to tell me I have arthritis? (Yes, my health insurance sucks. I can't wait to qualify for Medicare. And I will continue to work for single-payer health care – Medicare for all – until Congress passes such legislation. Or until hell freezes over, which will probably come first.)

I'm fortunate to be as old as I am and only have a cranky hip. It doesn't hurt as much when I'm walking or moving around, but when I sit down to relax it reminds me who's the boss.

Yesterday I twisted my left ankle. Right hip, left ankle, it sounds like a conspiracy to put me in a wheelchair. The ankle bothered me most of the afternoon and evening, and I ended up taking a couple Aleve and going to bed very early. I tried to watch a movie but couldn't concentrate and ended up sleeping for almost 10 hours.

And my ankle still hurts, but not as badly as it did yesterday.

It's not like a sprain, it's more like the joint is out of whack. I feel like I might be able to pop it back into place if I knew how to manipulate it.

So. My advice to you youngsters out there is this:

DON'T GET OLD!

Of course I know one alternative would be to die young, and I don't want that either. A better option is to stay active, control your weight and keep moving. The older you get, the harder it will be to regain any measure of fitness you once had. Don't let it slip away as you move through your 30s and 40s.

In other words, don't spend the last third of your life trying to fix something that could have been handled when you were younger and the task was easier. It could happen to you.