Turning back the clock can’t turn back the years

This is that time of year when we get the extra hour. It was taken from us in the spring, but magically it comes back so we can get our extra hour of sleep. I am not really certain which hour that will be, as I have changed from a slug-a-bed, to a “Why am I awake? It’s only 5 a.m.?” Sometimes I can fall back to sleep, but usually I toss and turn in disgust, then just get up.

Of course, being up does not mean being ready to move, as I test my joints one at a time to check on whether they will move. Sometimes I hang on to the side of the walker by my bed just to center myself, and then I head to the bathroom.

Not only is 2018 on the wan, sometimes I think my body is, also. But fall is the time for a few extra aches and pains. I prefer not to dwell on or talk about them. I do my best to simply block them out and ignore, and get myself going to whatever the day has in store.

I think back to my childhood at times, and remember I had promised I’d never get old. Age would be OK, but I wouldn’t let age bother me … or so I thought. I would never complain, like I heard the ladies around my mother’s kitchen table complain. They were constantly talking about things like gout and pleurisy; the list goes on.

I was certain that I would not let any ailments I had bother me in the least. Neither would the gray hair or wrinkles. I would grow old gracefully. How can getting older be such a big deal? That thought was brought home to me the year I turned 50, and I was beginning to learn what ailments were, and why the ladies in my childhood farm kitchen were complaining.

Now, turn the calendars to 25 years later, and I understand even more. I know that complaining does not make the pain go away, but sometimes talking about it can help relieve the stress.

I am having more fun in 2018 and hope that continues into 2019 and beyond. The fun began in January, when I decided to try to do something about my diabetic condition. In my wildest dreams I didn’t think I could have gone this far, and even enjoy myself in the process. However, I believe that it gave me a purpose, a goal and a reason.

In order to achieve my goal of reducing my insulin, I needed to get serious about my exercise plan and my eating habits.

So, if you call me, I am likely not home. I spend a lot of time going to Shawano to exercise at Total Fitness. On days I don’t get there, I do some exercise at home. I don’t overwork the parts that hurt, but now I know pain is no excuse not to do anything at all. In fact, the more I sit, the more I hurt.

I do have Facebook, and yesterday I was shocked at what came up as a memory from 2011. I had written about having all of my flower bulbs dug up, and all the old growth cut down from my plants. Now, just seven short years later, I don’t even plant bulbs anymore, nor have I cut back the old growth. So, I am still not up to doing what I did seven years ago.

The upcoming winter might slow me down on the number of trips I make to Shawano. Snow will fall or, worse yet, ice might keep me home. I may be old enough to be scared of the ice, but I will get down on the floor for yoga.