Week 4: A Late Entry

This fourth week of Anti-Aging Because Aging Sucks started so well!
I must say, I recommend police escorts.
We spent Saturday morning on a community bike ride that consisted of 6 folks — three community civilian bike riders, two officers who formed a new “bike unit,” and one officer in a squad car to stay behind/zoom ahead as needed to ensure safe travels through the mean streets of this little prairie ville.
And oh, my goodness, I love an escort.
Lights flashing, zipping and zooming so that I never miss a pedaling moment…so cool.
If ever you see “Community Bike Ride” posters, I recommend you air some tires, chew some rehydration gum, and put on the weird padded shorts because dang, those seats are intense.
It’s worth it all.
And if you need a community, come to the prairie. We’re ready and willing to throw another ride.

Week 3: the Struggle is Real

This very morning I sat in my kitchen with Ben and Jerry clutching a spoon suspended a hair’s breath above One Sweet Whirled when I heard the voice of my trainer, “Would this fulfill you or just fill you?”
I’ve heard her say before, “If it’s something you need emotionally, eat it. Otherwise, it’s a meh.”
My thighs screamed, “Listen NOT to the voice of reason!” over the whisper of my heart: “Yeah…this is a ‘meh.'”
Proud of the fact that the pint went back into the fridge.
Then I ate 78 grams of protein to counteract the need for sugar. Win!
But don’t tell the trainer that even my heart could NOT resist a shortbread cookie straight from an online recipe for Biscuits with the Boss. (If you don’t know about Ted Lasso, please run to any streaming device and rectify that lack immediately.)
So I WON…then I lost a little bit…but then I went to yoga.
See? Week 3 of Aging Gracefully — at Least with Less Whining — is going swimmingly!
Now for Day 2…

Ahem. We begin Week 2 but call it Week 1 because nothing that went that poorly should count.

The first 7 days of my 31 day challenge were not the best. Caloric content through the roof, reluctant-at-best exercise in which the motions were made but effort was not spent, and my attitude…poor, and I’m being kind.
So. Today is Day 8 but I’m claiming it instead to be 1.2.
The main difference: I prepared this time — went to the grocery store with a list of Trainer Approved foods; counted the actual calories I’ve consumed today in my fitness app, the one my trainer can see because I hit “share with friends” and now I hope she shall be kind like a friend would be; thus I haven’t gone feral today because I’ve eaten, at a normal pace, with appropriate time lapses between snacks.
I’m killin‘ it today.
Tomorrow? Tomorrow will be the true test.
a. I’ll be at work, where I get busy, I get grumpy, and I know where the chocolate is hidden
and 2. …well, I don’t know why there’s a 2.
Let’s refer back to the first reasons tomorrow will be the true test, because actually there are things in the one statement.
Thus, there are THREE reasons why tomorrow will be the true, true test of my re-inspired dedication to 31 days of the Epic Challenge of Getting Old Gracefully, AKA Aging Sucks.

Tip: “serve your food in a pretty bowl.” as I’ve read under “helpful hints” when “making a lifestyle change so as to decrease the suckiness of aging.”
The bowl? Pretty. The food? Pretty tiny, even when surrounded by melamine design.

Googly Moogly, It’s only Day 4

Star Date: Four.
Four of 30 big ol’ days of training for the rest of the days.
Counting calories, bicep curling with the stapler, using apps for tracking water and food.
Ended up with a migraine on day 2 because of the stress…or because I didn’t want to play anymore…not sure where I stand on the maturity level today, what with all my whining and calf raises to reach the top shelves.
Busy, busy…I’m off to app…and things…

Day One of Training for “Aging, an Epic Saga”

Oh, sweet goodness, it’s May — birthday month — and I’m feeling exceptionally old.
My bat wings are fully formed, my Grandmother’s jowls are burgeoning and ready to drip from either side of my single-haired chin; I maintain a feeling of youth through inhalations of caffeine and re-readings of Calvin and Hobbes, and yet all of that equates to a Crap Fest.
Ugh, aging sucks.
In an effort to continue bolstering a sagging attitude, lowering butt, and to stop looking upward at every opportunity in feeble attempts to scaffold the dwindling elasticity of a droopy countenance, I’ve incorporated a trainer.
Now, on this first day of the third day of the fifth month, I’m weighing foods and counting calories. I have wellness-geared apps on my phone to aid the process. The trainer is on standby with prompts and smiles while I repeatedly clench my butt to perch above the couch cushion, again to bolster…things.
Supposed to fast for 18 hours a day at my age…recommended by nutritionists, scientific minds, medically trained pros. I did that today as well, minus three hours. I made it to 15, felt faint, called it a win.
It’s Day One, this Third Day of the Fifth Month of the 50-plus-ist year of my Life.
Threw on some short Lycra pants seen only by my dogs and bent over to touch my bare toes…sure, I felt a stretch but mostly I recognized that it’s time for a pedicure and to shave the winter coat.
Log dinner calories, participate in Fight Club at 7:45, down two Aleve at 9 with the remaining 34 ounces of water I need to drink today to fulfill my hydration schedule for today.
Pee at 11.

Aging sucks.