"I'm so proud of myself," I could hear the smile in my 91 year old Gram's voice. "Yesterday I asked the doctor when I could begin my exercises again, he told me I could start whenever I felt up to it. So yesterday I did half my usual amount, and today I did the full amount." Gram was down for a couple weeks after a fall which caused a pinched nerve in her leg. She is a tiger.
On their wedding night, my grandparents stayed in a posh hotel. On their way to their room late that night, my gram discovered a wheelchair parked outside another guest's door. Gram sat down in the chair and Gramp sashayed her around the hallway. In my imagination, Gram is wearing a ball gown and a fur stole. Gramp, ever dapper, is wearing a tuxedo. Both are shimmering with suppressed glee and wheelies.
My Gram was a war bride. She married in a tailored navy blue suit with a string of pearls about her neck. She comes from "Society," but has always determined her own standard of joyful living. Against the wishes of her parents, her wedding dinner was a picnic under the trees.
My Gram paints, these days. Watercolor. She has always painted, but finds more time to do these things now. It fills her mind with focus on positive things. She paints the things she loves: birds, rabbits, turtles, Mammoth, dogs. Her mind is sharp, even if her brush stroke isn't. My Gram has a shake in her hand which makes painting and even writing difficult (I have never heard her complain of this, only observed). I have realized over the past year the importance of persisting in doing things I love, even if I am not as good as other people, or even as good as I once was. Perfection comes with the exercise.
I am on day two of my newly planned schedule. My swim was unexpectedly lovely this morning. JE and I rose before the sun and walked to the heated pool. This was the first clear morning in ages and the stars were in full force with a low moon. The pool was dark and still, but when we broke the surface, a million dark rainbows glided in waves across the bottom. We swam until the sunrise. My bike is in the shop and I got off work a bit early, so I walked 45 minutes to meet JE, who flew past me in the car. He picked me up and since all I could think about was Korean BBQ, he took me to pho. True story.
Foodwise: Loads in and loads out. I am keeping a record of this, not too sure I want to share. This whole thing with the calories I burn and the calories I eat aren't congealing in my understanding. I get the gist, but when I eat 3000+ calories I have a huge sense of guilt, even though I am burning half of it in my exercise routine. This is causing me some distress, and I need to do some reading to understand what my body needs while I am wreaking so much havoc on myself. Any objections? Please comment. Any support? Please comment
Guilt is a wasted emotion. But if keeping a record of this is holding you back, stop.
ReplyDeleteMaybe you can think of it as paying for a house. You are the bank account. You have a payment that you have to make. If you fail to put enough money in the account to make that payment, then you've got trouble. But, in general, financial information is not handed out for others to read.
Perhaps I make no sense at all. You rock whether you keep track of calories or not. If it won't change your behaviour and only changes your stress level, then you know what to do.
Keep up the good work and eat some yummy food for me!
Thanks, Lisa. You do make sense. I do understand food budgeting. Good analogy about the mortgage and not sharing financial info.
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