I'm jogging!

Per usual, I have been thinking about New Year's resolutions lately. Per usual, they are the same ol' same ol': eat less, exercise more, keep the house cleaner, etc. This past year I actually made some progress.

Housework is something people don't notice unless you don't do it. I am still not a very enthusiastic housekeeper, but I know I have been doing a better job. Not stellar, but better. I considered hiring it done, but I would first have to deal with the clutter, and if I got rid of the clutter, it would be easier for me to do the cleaning. So this will be the year of decluttering.

I have lost some weight this past year, but that was from the diverticulitis, so I don't really count that. I have an app on my phone that helps me track calories consumed and calories burned, and I have come to the conclusion that I cannot just diet.

This past year I addressed some of my mechanical ailments by going through a round of physical therapy, regularly visiting a chiropractor, and resuming monthly deep tissue massages. My SO and I signed up for yoga classes this past fall, to step up that aspect of our activity program (and we are signed up for both tai chi and yoga starting next month).

My new supervisor wants me to work at work more, so even though I work on the first floor, I climb stairs a couple of times a day to counteract being chained to my cubbie all day. Our desks and monitors are adjustable, so sometimes I raise them and work standing (sitting is the new smoking). When the weather is amenable, I circle the pond a couple of times at lunch, and when it is not, I take a yoga mat into one of the privacy rooms for stretches.

Usually I get a lot of walking done during the summer, albeit behind a mower, but the dry weather eliminated the need for lawn control. I also am able to find a lot of excuses for not walking: it's too hot/too cold/too wet/too windy/too dark/too buggy (and fitness centers are too germy). So I purchased a used treadmill. Using the Couch-to-5K program, but walking instead of jogging, I made good use of it.

Then one day, while playing with Finn and a piece of string, I started jogging back and forth through the house while he chased. By the time he quit the game, I had jogged for five minutes without stopping. Huh. So the next day, as an experiment, I tried jogging for 20 minutes, still in the house, barefoot. No problem.

Quite frankly, I am shocked. I have never had much lung power, even as an athletic child; once, inspired by the Olympics, I decided I was going to become a miler, but could not even make it around the block. In my 20's, when jogging was hot, I diligently worked toward being able to jog one mile around a track. It took a month, but I finally did it - then promptly quit jogging for the next 35 years.

So what is different now? I credit all the PT exercises, particularly the ones the chiropractor provided, like the "marching bridge". In general, I feel stronger all over, and I think that translates into being able to jog without dying. I won't break any speed records, not even for my age group, but I like my new capabilities. And while my weight stubbornly refuses to budge, I have lost inches.

The cold air makes my lungs hurt, so don't look for me to be jogging around the neighborhood anytime soon. However, once the weather warms up in the spring, I hope to take this show on the road. Also, our fair city has a Fort4Fitness event in the fall that includes a 4-mile run/walk. I bet I could do that.

We are all perfect just the way we are... AND we could all use a few improvements. How about you?

The world did not end... again

If the world were to end, how would you spend your final day on earth? Apparently I wanted to have lunch with some co-workers, overeat to the point of illness, then wake up in the middle of the night with one of the following:

• A gall bladder attack. Even though I have gall stones, I rarely suffer for it. My home remedy is some apple juice with a couple tablespoons of cider vinegar. This usually provides instant relief, but not this time. 
• A heart attack. They say the symptoms of a heart attack in women are frequently confused with heartburn or a sore shoulder. My left shoulder hurts intermittently on a daily basis, so I can't go by that, but I wondered about the pain under my sternum. It was a dark and stormy night, lots of wind blowing slush from the sky, and the idea of getting dressed and driving to the emergency room did not sound very appealing, though.
• Heartburn. Once yesterday's lunch finally moved past my stomach, I ate a couple of Cuties (mandarins) plus a bit of homemade frozen yogurt with dried cranberries and nuts, all of which was chased by a handful of vitamins and supplements. It would not be the first time calcium upset my stomach, but usually that occurs soon after ingesting it rather than hours later. 
• Shellfish cooties. The older I get, the less my allergies bother me, with the exception of shellfish. I don't even need to eat shellfish itself - if I consume fish that is fried in the same fryer or if utensils on a salad bar get mixed up, the symptoms can strike. Fortunately, I don't go into anaphylactic shock. Instead, my abdomen bloats like roadkill on a summer day, producing much misery. Bingo.

This all started shortly after midnight, finally abated close to 5AM, my alarm went off at 7 (why oh why did I not turn it off at 5?!? I'm on VACATION), and the world did not end. I guess I better finish knitting those xmas socks.

I can see clearly now

Besides all the other age-related health issues that have nagged me this year, my eyes decided they needed some attention, too. Thank goodness for vision insurance, which my employer provides FREE OF CHARGE. (The work itself is a giant snore, but I cannot complain about the benefits.)

I hate picking out frames because I have no fashion sense whatsoever and have to rely on the optician to find the one pair that will look halfway decent on me. This time I think he did good.

One down, 31 to go

Last week, while eating a bologna sandwich, I bit down on something hard (a piece of bone maybe?) and broke off about 25% of one wisdom tooth. (Yes, I have - or had - all my wisdom teeth, have room for more. Yes, I have a big mouth.) My dentist is biased against wisdom teeth, probably from seeing what problems they may cause, and recommended having this one extracted. So this afternoon, out it came. One more milestone on the path to the gravestone.

Even though I was to have a local instead of general anesthesia, my SO accompanied me. While sitting in the oral surgeon's waiting room, I wondered out loud what they used to do to pull teeth. "Whiskey and a pair of pliers," SO answered. Well, I'm here to tell you that the modern technique is not much different, except you are sober.

I asked the doctor how long the procedure would take, and he said, "It could take 60 seconds, it could take ten minutes." I girded myself for the latter, but fortunately it was only a minute or two, despite my jaw bone being "like marble". The total visit time was about an hour, though, filled with form signing, waiting for the doctor, waiting to become numb, waiting for the bleeding to stop (or at least slow down), and paying the bill. I don't know what this procedure costs where you live, but here it was $135, minus 5% for paying it all at once. This city could probably be a medical tourist destination.

Ordinarily, I rarely go to the doctor, but this year I have spent a lot of time with medical professionals of one sort or another. Dentistry is my favorite: they promote self-care, most problems are easily solved, and you don't have to take your cloths off.