Dying to be Healthy

I'm getting older by the minute. We all are, but it starts to catch up with us after a certain point in time. The aging process is inexorably moving toward entropy. And it is my job to stave off that finality for as long as possible. Or something like that.

Mostly I'm worried about my clothes. I have a lot of clothes. Many, many pieces of clothing fill a walk-in closet, a double closet, a dresser, two chests of drawers, and a smaller antique washstand. Then there are Christmas sweaters stored under my bed, a few items in storage upstairs, and my coats.

I have lots of clothes because I've stayed relatively the same size for most of my adult life. Many of my clothes are over ten years old, but still look like new. When you have this much stuff to choose from, you don't need to wear the same thing all the time. So stuff doesn't get worn out. That, and I'm old and take good care of my possessions. So, my clothes last a long time and I keep buying more. I could off load some, but … I'm sure I will want to wear it some day, some where for some event I might have to attend. Although I rarely attend events anymore, this is always a looming possibility.

My clothes are important to me. And so, my self has to stay the same size as my clothes. This isn't as easy as it once was. I used to be quite active. Now – not so much. My fingers get a great workout as I type and my right hand is "awesome" after a brisk workout with the mouse. Otherwise, I'm pretty stationary. I just sit here and – well, sit. Unless I bring a snack into my office and eat while I sit.

This is not working out as well as I might have hoped. I'm gaining weight. I stopped drinking coffee all day long and instead of two pots per day, I'm down to three cups – okay, mugs. But still only three. But I keep going into the kitchen, looking for coffee, and find food instead. Also not a good dieting plan.

I was religiously using the elliptical until I hit some sort of brick wall in February. Then I stopped. A trip to the doctor's office revealed a bit of an anomaly with my blood work and a repeat test reiterated the fact. I'm getting older and all this sitting isn't the best exercise plan in the world. I would be healthier if I moved more.

So I fired up the elliptical again. I began slowly and have gotten a bit more aggressive with time. I'm up to P4 or the fourth preset program. There are thirteen of these. I was up to P8 when I quit in February. So five times a week (I have Fridays and Sundays off) I do thirty minutes of self torture. I'm not seeing that it is really doing me any good. I'm not losing weight – although that probably has a lot more to do with intake rather than expenditure.

I've taken to hooking up the Wii again and doing the step routine for ten minutes. It gives me nearly a thousand steps up and down. I can manage ten minutes of absolute boredom, but just barely. I'm not sure what else I could do while marching up and down; back and forth. But it is mind crushingly boring to do this. It also helps me focus when I sit back down, so it isn't all bad.

I wear a heart rate monitor on the elliptical. The Wii isn't strenuous as it will only let me go so fast and still count the steps. I have my heart rate set to yell at me when I get over 160 beats per minute. It does, on occasion have to tell me to slow down. Some days I watch it more closely than others.

Today, the alarm never went off. However, I was getting light headed by the end of the thirty minutes. I had to power my way through the last few minutes, telling myself it would soon be all over. I went slowly and didn't get my usual mileage in. I have no idea why some days are so difficult. Two days ago, my heart rate monitor beeped at me three times and I never felt bad. Today, I felt bad and the monitor was happy.

I just keep forcing myself to do this. I hope my next trip to the doctor's office shows some improvement. Otherwise, I have no idea how I will bribe myself to continue.