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Showing posts with the label Physically Active

From Out of the Rabbit Hole

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 In my last blog post, to my shame almost 3 weeks ago now, I indicated that I was ready to get out and attack life again. Not one to do things by halves, I haven't really stopped, certainly not for long enough to write here. In fact it's all felt a bit Alice in Wonderlandish. Caree nods off to sleep, falls down a rabbit hole and wakes up in a mad, mad world.  So February has seen me dashing to London by train; spending days playing with Grandotty and her toys; catching up again with my fitness until my muscles have screamed in agony, grown tongues of their own and begged me to stop; on a whim repainting a kitchen door and then finding myself drawn into decorating the whole caboodle and it's still ongoing. We've even been to a Mad Hatter's tea party or was it my brother's 60th birthday lunch, followed by tea and cake? There have been catch ups with friends over coffee and more lunch, medical appointments and all the usual wider family get togethers, chores and v

The Joy of Grandparenting

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  We spent last week in the Lake District, treated to the torrential rain and wind provided by not one but two storms. On the plus side, as the height of the beck outside rose and rose, it was a great excuse to simply stay in on a couple days  to play with our granddaughter who joined us there with her parents, the Eldest and Dilly.  The net result was that I made up for the lack of fell walking by the number of circuits completed around the sofa chasing one small toddler who is now so confident on her feet that she is trying to run whilst squealing with delight. If that wasn't exhausting in itself, the lively debates that happen with an eleven month old certainly are. Armed only with a vocabulary of four words she can certainly argue. The first two words are obviously Mummummum and Dadada but when the second two are very clearly "yes" and "no," the adults are in trouble! If I had any doubts whatsoever on the reproductive score, I now fully comprehend why givin

Christmas Disco

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  No, it may be 9th December but I haven't yet been to a Christmas  Disco. I know there's something about regressing as you age but going back to those teenage years when the whole of December seemed like one endless party isn't something I've yet subscribed to in retirement. That said, the Fitness Studio at the gym was recently upgraded to include vertical fluorescent strip lights on the walls that can be set to flash and change colour. Far superior in fact to the projected colours at the local community hall that my 15 year old self  frequented. In Keep Fit to Music the other day, the memories came flooding back, even if I was lying on the floor at the time in a hip bridge. I assure you it had nothing to do with any historic attempt at break dancing (which, in my youth, certainly hadn't caught on where I grew up). Rather, I think it was inspired by the Christmas soundtrack that the instructor had introduced by way of seasonal gesture.  All those Christmas melodies

It's Black Out There

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  A little after 4pm and it was so black outside that we had to put the lights on. Storm Debi has been making itself known all day with heavy rain and a strong wind. In fact the weather was so disgusting that after a brief foray for Yoga and Pilates classes I was glad to get home and hunker down. Contending with foul conditions on top of everything else only adds to the torment and tension. I've always said that one of the benefits of retirement has been an ability to follow the seasons and live life accordingly but I'm not so sure about relating to or synchronising with these short, dark, depressing days.  When I was last able to get out into the garden for a limited tidy up in readiness for what feels like a fast approaching winter, I noticed that we appear to be hosting a hedgehog's nest behind some shrubbery. It made me wonder whether hibernation might actually be an appropriate way to harmonise with the coming months. It's been a pattern of our retirement to try to

Chilled to the Bone

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  I can't say that I generally feel the cold. Indeed Mister E and I are happy to keep our house at a maximum temperature of 18 to 19 degrees celsius. It's just as well bearing in mind that we have had no oil supply to run the central-heating boiler for several weeks. That really didn't matter when we were being blessed with summer weather but the recent tilt into autumn has certainly not gone unnoticed. Whilst an inability to warm the bathroom radiators to dry towels, along with a lack of heat in the utility room for airing clothes has been a nuisance, it's hardly been a great bugbear. Gradually, however, there's been an increasing awareness of the chilly evenings and I've found myself reaching for a fleece to put on. With some heavy rain and no sunshine, the effect has become pronounced. So much so that, travelling to London on Saturday, I was really aware of arthritic inflammation and pain in my left hand. Whilst Mister E drove, I found myself rubbing the swol

Planking for Victory

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  This weekend marks 5 weeks of living on bottled water. Not the most auspicious of anniversaries, coinciding as it has with Plastic Free July and ruining all attempts on my part to live more sustainably. So the stress runs on, but we are building our resilience.  In my case, I have found that throwing myself into exercise classes and some heavy gardening certainly helps and undoubtedly has me falling asleep even before I get into bed. Last weekend the Village Gardening Club co-ordinated a tour of members' gardens. Rain had forced me to abandon any effort to weed and I confess that my flower beds, with some in an ongoing state of renovation, were an embarrassment. I devote my time in early summer to the vegetable patch and then never find a weather window to sort the rest of the garden; it's usually too wet, too windy or too hot making the clay soil seal like concrete. However, shamed by the success of others and helped by ideal conditions, this past week Mister E and I have fi

Tiring and Tying

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  I'm not sure why but I do love my garden. However, toiling for hours to produce fresh produce just at the time it is widely available in the shops and consequently relatively cheap, surely requires some explanation. I think it is that mixture of nature and nurture, not in the sense of the great psychology debate but from the perspective of getting up close and dirty with the first, whilst deriving pleasure and reward from the actual process of rearing all those seedlings and cuttings. Experimentation and creativity abound; the economics of production are irrelevant. However, there is no doubt that it can be back-breaking and tiring. Since retiring, I have concentrated on trying to reduce some of the more physical aspects of digging and weeding. Consequently, I now have a system for adding compost and turning the soil immediately each bed has been harvested, covering it with a weed suppression fabric until it is time for planting again. In the flowerbeds too, I have begun to use b

A Reminder to Myself

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  When you are working so often busyness, stress and fatigue are held up like an award of honour displayed proudly on your chest. In reality they are debilitating and in due course exhaustion can lead to burn out. There are still occasions when I feel overburdened but unlike my pre-retirement days it's so much easier to remedy the situation. This week, as well as all the cleaning up from last week's disasters and on top of my normal schedule, I've put myself under pressure by seeking to dig over, compost and re-mulch the garden whilst the sun shines and before the clay soil turns once again to something that resembles concrete. Contemporaneously I'm trying to build in a variety of self watering systems based on wicking and capillary actions. There are seedlings to transplant and pot on, as well as more seeds to be sown directly into vegetable  beds. It's a race against time and it feels like I'm losing. Nowadays I know that the most important things in life are

Stroking Birds' Tails

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  What I really love about retirement are the opportunities to take up so many new challenges. Today was no exception when I participated in my first session of Tai Chi. It may be classed as a martial art but judo it is not. When the instructor asked if anyone had any previous experience, a friend volunteered that she had watched Kung Fu Panda. Unsurprisingly he told her that would not help! Instead it was an hour of weight shifting, stroking sparrows' tails and turning large imaginary balls between our hands, all to a soundtrack of birds singing.  I entered the studio with no preconceptions (I didn't even know if we were meant to wear shoes or not) and left it calm but enthused.  Lesson 2 is on Friday. Somehow I doubt if we shall progress to exercising with weapons which I understand can include spears, sabres and fans. Instead the emphasis is on learning a set sequence of moves, working with internal energy whilst slowing the mind, breath and movement of limbs. As we get olde

Atishoo

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  Oh dear, where have I been for the last month? Can you believe that one small baby grandchild would have occupied so much of my time? Well not quite, but all the travelling to see her coupled with an equally lengthy journey in the opposite direction to carry our pre-launch tasks on the Retirement Project have taken their toll. Mainly I suspect because train carriages and motorway service stations have to be amongst the worst harbinger of germs in existence. Couple that with a breakdown in immunity levels due to the cossetted nature of coronavirus lockdowns and the lack of social-mixing, and I'm beginning to wonder if I'll ever be safe to let out again.  On our last such trip, I set off feeling really well following a back and shoulder massage the day before that had finally got rid of the uncomfortable knots that had been building since the gym team decided that my demographic should all really be raising our strength levels by lifting heavier weights. A great idea for build

Unscathed

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  We have recently returned from another little foray. On this occasion we went to Malta and what can I say? Flying again after all this time- it was almost a new experience but bit by bit the memories return: the queues; the waiting; the cramped airline seats; the appalling range of  over priced and undertasting snacks; those passengers at the various airport checks with the wrong documentation. I could go on but, discomfort and all, it was quite simply great to be able to do it again. Malta too was a new to us destination. Another place that we had cancelled our planned visit to, back in 2020. A home from home in ways that I had not expected; well it always makes crossing the road easier when the traffic drives on the left, not to mention finding a post box when it's red! Staying in Valletta, we wandered to our limits finding the light, history and architecture very much to our pleasing; an urban photographer's paradise, even in the rain. We also had easy access to local bus

Not Working Out

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 What is it about Covid ? I've been testing negative for a week now and still the irritating coughing lingers. It feels like it should be productive but there honestly isn't anything for it to produce unless somehow barking can clear blocked ears. Doctor Google provides all kinds of medical explanations and theories but none are of any great use in unravelling a solution. Initially I thought I'd been given an early dispensation when only 5 days after that initial positive result, my lateral flow test was clear. Enthusiastically I returned to the gym 2 days later, albeit starting with a light weights and stretching class rather than something too strenuous. It got rid of all the stiffness in the joints and I felt a certain levity of spirit returning home, convinced I was cured and that the fourth vaccination really had delivered the immune response promised and in record time. How wrong can you be? It could have been a relapse or a false result but next morning, testing to j

Keep Lifting

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  A US study published in the British Journal of Sports Medicine attracted widespread coverage today. Whilst my Fitbit congratulates me for exceeding 150 minutes of moderate physical activity a week, it seems that this accolade now comes with the ringing endorsement that coupling 2.5 hours of moderate to vigorous physical exercise with muscle strengthening potentially extends life. That's good, as three times a week I combine a strength class with Zumba or HIIT, with swimmming and additional Pilates sessions thrown in for good measure. 150 minutes? Far, far more but then I am making up for lost time spent in an office or lounging on a sofa. Obviously I'd like to think that muscular and aerobic activity could be a prominent feature of the whole of my retirement but I'm not entirely convinced by the prospect of continuing this routine into my eighties or beyond. Endorphins or not, the idea of moving from zimmer frame to press-ups is strangely fascinating. A definite challeng

In Abundance

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  Returning from a week away we have been welcomed by an abundance. Unfortunately not all abundances are welcome equally.     The fruit and vegetables were appreciated, less so the multitude of wasps helping themselves to the profusion of apples and plums. Then, of course, there was the big job of watering everything, although luckily there had been some rain during our absence and the water butts were brimming once again. Where, however, have all those cats suddenly appeared from? It seems they've taken advantage of our being away to add the garden to their territorial claims. Talk about an invasion; the battle to regain our land and expel unwanted visitors has begun. Finally there was the mountain of work (a dirty word in retirement). It wasn't just fruit picking for which I had to don leather gloves to protect against buzzing insect life but also, now that the temperature has cooled, the pressure is on to complete our current unfinished project of  restoring the rear patio

Up Close

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  It was the privilege of monarchs to tour the country with a train of horses and carriages as the whole court moved with them. By the 17th century the aristocracy had developed a social season, spending April to June in London and then transferring their households back to their country estates. Having just returned from the Lake District where we stay in the same accommodation for a week in winter and a week in summer, it struck me that we are indulging in a somewhat elitist tradition in the style of the landed gentry from centuries past. We may not have any servants to bring along but we invariably end up taking any number of items from our kitchen and the intention is always to be joined by and entertain guests. After years of this routine, rather than a holiday it really does feel like we are making a procession across the Pennines moving from home to home. Fortunately there are no ball gowns to fit into or corsets to be tied. The lodge we stay in nestles by the side of a beck ami

Screaming

 ðŸ˜±ðŸ˜±ðŸ˜± One third of the way through a long Bank Holiday weekend and I awoke this morning feeling like a cross between Edvard Munch's The Scream and that screeching emoji. To be more precise and to clarify, it was my muscles that were screaming though, not my vocal chords. Despite knowing better, not only did I spend all day yesterday digging, lifting and bending in the garden but I totally overlooked stretching off afterwards. Away from a studio class, stretches of the quad, calf and hamstring, not to mention back and side bends, don't seem to feature in my regular routine. After 6 hours of hard labour they really must; the tragedy of course was that I only remembered this when I descended the stairs this morning, rigid and in agony. One of the tribulations of my retirement is always that I want my body to do more than ever whilst caught in a never ending spiral of ageing and stiffness. Fortunately the pain has eased, not least after deliberately extending my limbs and spine i

A Satisfying Combination

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  I wholeheartedly subscribe to the notion that Nature always uplifts the spirit. Don't, therefore, dismiss me for the fact that I enjoy spending many hours of my retirement in the garden and no, I don't mean on a sun-lounger. The long Easter weekend has seen me pottering in the flower borders, sowing vegetable seeds in the greenhouse and taking cuttings from shrubs for propagation. I understand that this is not necessarily how many might wish to pass their time but perhaps they may feel more empathy with my means of deriving enjoyment if I divulge that the weekend culminated with an evening in the village pub. The third Monday of the month and it was of course Gardening Club! Well sometimes you do have to take your hobbies to that next level and what better way than discussing the finer points of soil, slugs and spuds whilst sipping a drink. It truly made my heart sing which, believe me, is better than it beating too fast.    

Boots and Balance

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Back in November I discovered that my long-standing and comfortable hiking boots had sadly come to the end of their days, devoid of support and grip with soles hanging half off too. Today was the day I started to break in their replacements. I swear my ankles belong to that princess who could feel a pea under the mattress, or perhaps I just don’t like change.  Needless to say we got off to a bad start together, when I lost my balance slipping on a wet rock and landed on my back only minutes after setting off. Talk about a confidence wrecker for somebody who’s still in the process of rehabilitation from a tear to the meniscus . At least the ground was soft, so no harm done apart from the astonishment at how easy it can be to fall over.  Thankfully, I don’t give in easily and numerous adjustments to the laces saw me complete a 3 mile circuit with only a slight rubbing at the front of my right ankle. The weather was reasonably mild, the sky was blue, my knee behaved itself and the inside

Doomed!

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  Last week the media expressed an inexplicable degree of excitement in the findings of a study from Singapore that concluded housework increases cognitive function as well as physical health in the elderly. Darn, the justification for recruiting a home-help in retirement diminishes by the day. To  be fair, as we already know, exercise is good for you and housework, it seems, is just a little more of that, making up for any shortfalls in recreational activity. In fact on those rare occasions when I actually clean windows the Fitbit on my wrist automatically recognises it as swimming. The study, however, notes the meaningful nature of housework as a key component of daily living. As Mister E and I gambol through our dust strewn and untidy home in pursuit of more stimulating projects, could meaning be missing from our lives? Have the washing machine and vaccum cleaner released me to exercise in gym classes only to deprive me of purposeful and fulfilling action? I suspect not. There hav

A Sticky Situation

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  You know when you see people walking with the assistance of a stick? I've just joined them!  I hope it's only a temporary situation but my right knee, which has endured a series of meniscus tears during my adulthood, buckled on Tuesday. It has been showing signs of degeneration and instability for a number of years but hasn't given way for a while now. That changed 5 days ago, since when I have been pretty well immobile.  Now I'm not asking for sympathy because in this instance the problem is sadly self inflicted. The one thing I haven't learnt to do yet in retirement is to accept that I need to be kinder to the various joints in my body, especially my knees. Instead the last few weeks have seen me permanently on my feet decorating or at the gym, throwing myself into exercise classes determined to strengthen my core and key muscle groups to protect myself from injury as I grow older. Some success that has been when I now have one leg that is barely weight-bearing!