Tag: Old

  • ODDS and ENDS: Walking to Success, Sprung Spring, and Jeans

    ODDS and ENDS: Walking to Success, Sprung Spring, and Jeans

    (Make you come home early…)

    So… I’m back to the gym. I have been off of it since October, and my body is showing it. I have a little belly now, which is really wanting to become a bigger belly. No real surprise, I have let myself go for the past five months. But not any longer. Back to the gym, and my plan is to follow the same pattern as before; a pattern that garnered positive results for me. Thirty minutes a day for five days a week, aiming to get two miles in on the treadmill. And since I am a middle aged man, I know that I have to work my way up to running the whole thirty minutes. So, I do a brisk walk for now, then I will start running for a few minutes, and alternate back to walking. Slowly, I’ll start running more than walking, getting to the point where I walk the first three minutes, jog the next twenty-four, and do a cool down walk of three minutes. I’m on week two of being back to the gym, and I’m still walking for the time being (Next week we start jogging for a few minutes) but is there a way to just walk my way to losing ten pounds? Better yet, is there a way I can just lay on the couch and… well… just lay on the couch because I hate going to the gym, and none of it is fun for me. But… I want to be healthy, so I have to suck it up…

    No one cares about the second Spring day, which is effectively what yesterday was. It was 72 out in the City. It was great out, but it was the second day of Spring and no one cared. See, that first day of Spring, when it gets to the upper 60’s for the first time, everyone and their dog is out. I love how there are the super ambitious people who are dying for Spring and Summer to show up, to the point that they are running around in shorts, t-shirt and sandals as if it was a Summer day. More importantly, that first day of Spring has a feeling of relief and joy that Winter is finally coming to an end; that we have made it through the darkness and better times are ahead. The second Day of Spring is more about people complaining that they out on the wrong coat in the morning.

    There is one sure fire way to acknowledge that I am getting older, and that has to do with decreased amount of time that I wear jeans. There was a time, say from the age of ten to twenty-five, when I would have worn a pair of jeans everyday. Even in Summer, and I used to live in Texas. I lived in jeans. And over this time frame, I did own other pants, like khakis and such, and for shits and giggles I might wear them out, but on the whole, jeans as far as the eye can see. Then I graduated college, and had to go get a job, and the dominance of jeans began to wane in my life, well, at least between the hours of 8am to 6pm, Monday through Friday. Nothing but jeans, in different colors (Blue, dark blue, light blue, and black) and styles (Baggy and Straight) and brands (Levi’s and Old Navy). Now that I am older, sensible slacks seem sensible, and wearing pants that seem appropriate for the season I’m in also is a very logical proposition.

    (P.S. – The AI Image Creator is an RFK Jr. Fan, as It Thinks I Work Out in Jeans)

  • When Was the Last Time You Felt Rested?

    The wife asked me that yesterday morning. We both hadn’t slept well the night before. She kept tossing and turning, while I just couldn’t fall asleep. The result was two adults that felt tired. Hence why she asked that question; when was the last time I felt fully rested.

    I wanted to say the last vacation we took, but I know that’s not true. Even when we do get away, even for a few days, I can’t help but wake up when I normally would during the week. So it’s like even when I want to sleep, my body won’t let me.

    On the weekends, we take turns sleeping in. She gets to sleep in on Saturday, and I get to sleep in on Sunday. But saying that we get to “sleep in” is a bit of a stretch. See, when one gets up early, what that really means is that the other can continue lying in bed. Sometimes you fall back asleep after the other one gets up, but most likely, you just lay there in bed looking at your phone.

    Which gets back to the question, full rested? When was that?

    It wasn’t my forties, because the kid. I love her, but between her waking us up, and the general worry that comes with being a parent – no rest here.

    My thirties? That was the decade of establishing my career, so no resting to be found there.

    My twenties? Who rested in their twenties? I know I didn’t. Lots of late nights and early mornings, and I don’t think I would trade any of them for anything.

    So, the last time I felt rested was when I was a teenager, and slept in till noon every weekend, and took a nap after school every day. Yeah, that’s my guess, and I want to say that guess is completely wrong. I was teenage angsty worn out. No rested to be found there.

    So, my honest guess is twelve. When I was twelve, and only had to watch cartoons, ride my bike, and not fail a grade.

    I guess what I am trying to say is that I think the next time I will feel rested will be retirement.

    And I really hope it’s retirement.

  • That Nap Ruined My Day

    We all make mistakes.

    In fact, here’s the one I made today.

    The kid had a half day at school, so she was home by 1pm. Before I went and got her, I did all the tasks and errands that I needed to do; balanced the checkbook, did the dishes, plugged in and ran the AC’s, got the kid from school, and made lunch. I even wrote in my journal, and did a good bit of reading – caught up on some flash pieces I have been meaning to read and finished a book of short stories.

    The kid had some homework, and we both sat down on the couch to do it. I don’t do the homework, I’m more along for moral support, and encouragement. Anyway, as I was sitting there, being that I’m not needed a whole lot, I decided that I should start reading another book. I got about 2 pages into it, and I fell asleep. Now, it wasn’t a deep sleep, but it was 45 minutes. I only woke up because the kid nudged me to ask if I was sleeping.

    But for the life of me, I haven’t been able to get myself back in gear. It’s like I’m walking through sand now. I’m so sluggish and foggy brained. I had plans for the second half of the afternoon, but I can’t seem to focus. Honestly, it’s taken me an hour to get myself to just sit down and do this.

    Hell, I promised the kid we’d go running in the park, and I still have to make dinner. I thought I was going to review a story but that doesn’t seem like it’s in the cards.

    I swear, if I nap for fifteen minutes, I am solid and refreshed. But anything over that amount of time, it’s like a crap shoot – God only knows how I’m going to react.

    I think I can blame this one on getting older.

  • ODDS and ENDS: Surprised I’m Here, Gotta Have Goals, and Sports

    (Nothin’ to do, nowhere to go…)

    I’m forty-seven years old. Not ashamed of my age, and other than a slight pot belly, I think I look rather good for my age. But for the life of me, when I was a kid, like nine years old, I never imagined that I would be this old. Well, sometimes I thought I’d be really old, like eighty, walking with a cane, shuffling around, being all grandpa like. No, when I was a kid, I thought I’d be in my twenties, and then, nothing. Thirty seemed like it was so far away, let alone forty. That some how, it couldn’t be possible that I would live that long. Not that I had some death wish, or believed I was doomed. No, it was more a matter of time. It’s time, the time it would take to become old seemed insurmountable. There just was no way that I could become that old… When I think about me at nine year old, I think he would be surprised that I am still here. And so bald…

    But the thing that makes getting older tolerable, is having a goal. Something to work towards, or look forward to. My Grandma Groff used to say that all the time when she would come and visit. That and it helps to have some spending money. But the goal thing, having something to accomplish, that has made a big difference if the last year for me. Not that it’s completely gone, but I don’t have that feeling of flounder much any more. That I’m just passing through my life, instead of being active in it.

    Growing up, we were a sports family, and then there was me; the un-athletic kid. I mean I tried. I tried my hand at baseball and basketball up through junior high. I really did love playing baseball, but I wasn’t athletically gifted; Batting ninth and right field were my lot. I took tennis lessons in high school, as my dad believed that we should do something physical, and not be a total loaf. I was pretty good at tennis, but I didn’t have the killer instinct for me to actually be competitive. After high school, I stopped playing any sort of sport. And then I had a daughter, who now is very into soccer. Which is cool, because I really like watching it. In my kid’s mind, watching soccer must mean that I know how to play soccer, right? I had written a week or so ago about helping the kid get ready for the soccer club try out. I enjoyed that, mainly because I was spending time with my daughter, but it was good being out and active. I also see in her mind’s eye that she is starting to think I am an athletic type of person. I enjoy this admiration I am receiving from her, but I know that in a year of two, it’s going to dawn on her how awkward and uncoordinated I really am.

  • ODDS and ENDS: She Called Me Old, Clothes Matter, and a Draw

    (Way down around Vicksburg…)

    I live in Harlem, and I love my neighborhood. I especially love my block. I have been here nearly twenty years, and we are all friendly and pleasant to each other. So, this morning, as I was crossing a busy intersection near my apartment, a person drove their car right through the crosswalk while me and a bunch of other people were crossing. Like I said, we are a friendly pleasant group of people around here, that is until someone does something stupid, like try to run us over. So, as this idiot was driving away, we all yelled at him, maybe gave some hand gestures, I don’t know, there were a lot of people. One of the people, an elderly woman who was moving slow, but was quick to disgust with that driver, turned to me and said, “Can you believe that person. Driving like that. No respect for us old people, like you and me.” And I said, “I know, what an asshole, and did you say I was old, because I’m just in my mid-forties.”

    I am going to say this about Kamala Harris, and her address to the DNC last night; She had the right clothes on. This is not some sexist statement about clothing and women, and being an object. No, this has everything to do with dressing for the job. She wants to be President, and she looked like The President. Out of everything that happened last night, and I do think she gave a great speech which set the correct tone for the final push of her campaign, I am aware that clothing is the last thought on anyone’s mind. But as she finished her address, she looked like the boss out there. She exuded that she could lead, and was ready. Whomever picked out that suit; good call.

    Tottenham drew its first match on Monday. So, they’re still undefeated going into week two.