Old woman with rollator (Photo credit: Verbal Jam)
In the course of the average day, I feel every age from 6 to 600. One minute, I’m cackling like a happy hen, feeling good, feeling sexy. Within an hour, I’m creeping up the stairs and feeling as winded as the last person to cross the finish line in the senior division of the local 10K. (Don’t get me wrong, here. Running is great, but you won’t catch me doing it unless I have to catch a train in Chicago.) Please, get me a walker, and put a basket on the front, while you’re at it. The next minute, I’m chortling like a toddler on an overdose of fruit snacks.
I used to be such an active woman. But I just, literally, have no energy. (I also think I have some high blood pressure issues going, but we’ll see what the new doc says about that. Appointment is in a few weeks…) I’ve always been more of a morning person, and found my best hours for mental acuity were happening before noon, but lately, it’s not happening. Where I used to have five good hours, I feel lucky if I have five good minutes. My mental energy is little better than my physical energy, but it is a little better.
I need to exercise more, there’s no doubt about it. I can’t believe I used to have a gym membership where I lifted weights, went to a belly dance class, and zoomed around a roller skating rink, all in the same week. I thought I would do more of that, once I moved to Milwaukee, but instead, it’s been worse. I thought it would be nice to have things within walking distance, but instead, because it’s the East Side (and therefore the happening place to live), it’s more expensive, and my income did not increase to compensate.
Don’t even get me started on New Year’s resolutions. I don’t like ‘em, and I usually don’t keep ‘em. Neither does anyone else that I’ve met. Ever.
But I have to do something. I can’t just end up fat and sassy. I mean, I’m already that, so would that be fatter and sassier? Hmmm… Does sassiness increase with fatness? Is that a direct proportion? Mmm… math always gives me energy.