At 5, I remember thinking 62 was really old. Now, at 62, not so
much. I am sometimes utterly amazed that I’ve been on this planet so
long. Lately, I’ve been pondering this next 3rd of my life. Yes, I think
I’ll make it to ninety-something, but not as some fat frail old lady.
I
can’t prevent getting old, but I can certainly prevent getting fat and
infirm. A very real danger if I don’t begin and do it now. Somewhere
around 57, I started slipping, and I can’t really put my finger on any
one reason.
I think it was a combination: A sedentary job
I knew would end in lay-offs, as the company was slowly divesting
itself of all its properties; menopause that although symptomless slowed
my metabolism; and then eight months on unemployment followed 6 months
after that by a year on unemployment.
For the first time in my long life, I look at the scale and do not like what it says. I
look in the mirror and it confirms the numbers – 40 pounds in 5 years.
Like everything else, I'm taking everything in steps this new year.
January was committed to a blog per day. February, I am back to walking daily rain or shine and art, being
it photography, drawing or painting one by Sunday of each week while
continuing the blog a day and a walk (5miles) per day.
It
takes 30 days to build a habit and only 3 to break it, so I'm
committing to a minimum of one new thing per month February is
exercise, but I felt that 1 drawing a week is doable as well.
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