So I’ve been walking outside for several weeks now, averaging 25-30 minutes on my route. I was feeling pretty proud of myself. My acid reflex and bursitis both started behaving better, my limp less pronounced. But now that the wind is getting colder and we’ve had some rainy days I decided to move inside and use the treadmill. The transition wasn’t pretty.
I found out that the pace I was maintaining outside was under what I used to do on the treadmill. I had to struggle yesterday to do three-quarters of a mile and I was doing much better than that this spring. But the realization that I wasn’t in as good of shape as I thought hit me hard just a half hour ago. I was downstairs doing some cleaning. The concrete floor in our basement is slowly disintegrating. Add to that the dust coming in from the open basement windows and all the loose grains of cat litter. So I swept out the area from the furnace to Dad’s old workbench, wrestled with the furnace and a stuck filter, moved some furniture, etc. It was about forty minutes of work and I was light-headed by the time I was done. That’s not a good sign.
So I’ll start pushing myself harder on the treadmill, get my wind back up to where it used to be when I broke my ankle. That was three miles in fifty minutes, which might not be an Olympian standard but it’s not bad for someone my age. There’s also this planking thing that I’m trying. It’s supposed to strengthen your core, something I really need with my back issues. So far I can only hold the pose for ten-fifteen seconds. According to the instructions I’m supposed to start at twenty seconds so yeah, I’m very much in the baby steps phase.
I don’t have any delusions of grandeur or lofty goals. Nothing I do is going to make me ripped or an object of desire. That’s not the objective. The objective is staying alive and enjoying that life. You can’t ask for a better epiphany than that.