Aging

The mind is willing, but the flesh is weak.

I was reminded of that recently when my wife and I were walking to an old castle ruin.
She got winded and said she didn’t think she could make it. I said, “I’ll carry you on my back for a bit and then you can recover. Just get up on that bank and jump on my back. Hold on to my neck and I’ll carry you.” She said, “Are you sure?” I said, “Yes, of course.”
She got on the bank and I bent over, ready to receive her. She leaped and the weight nearly knocked me down. She placed her arms around my neck and I grabbed her legs ready to start marching. I took one step and fell flat on my face. The weight on my back knocked the wind out of me. When I raised my head I began spitting the dirt from my mouth. We both lay on the ground laughing. Once I recovered, we slowly made our way up the mountain, hand in hand, helping each other.
Getting older creeps up slowly and often we don’t realize our limitations. The mind says, you can do it, but the body says, not anymore.

4/12/2012

ABe..

I hear you ! Even though I'm only 64, and having

heart issues, I try to do only what I know will not

get me winded , I'm happy to know you didn't get

hurt and you both made it ...

Cheers..Joe..

Abe,

Be Careful! You don't need a broken back Glad you are both okay.

Good Abe, good. Never give up.Try again, the first step will be difficult but after that it becomes more easy, as aeasy going,as easygoing steady as she goes carring my bag fulload of life

Thank you all for your comments expressing concern.
I've tried to push the inhibitions out of my mind. Can't imagine living my life based on the things I cannot do. As long as my mind says "you can", I'll give it a try.

Abe F. March wrote:

The mind is willing, but the flesh is weak.

I was reminded of that recently when my wife and I were walking to an old castle ruin.
She got winded and said she didn’t think she could make it. I said, “I’ll carry you on my back for a bit and then you can recover. Just get up on that bank and jump on my back. Hold on to my neck and I’ll carry you.” She said, “Are you sure?” I said, “Yes, of course.”
She got on the bank and I bent over, ready to receive her. She leaped and the weight nearly knocked me down. She placed her arms around my neck and I grabbed her legs ready to start marching. I took one step and fell flat on my face. The weight on my back knocked the wind out of me. When I raised my head I began spitting the dirt from my mouth. We both lay on the ground laughing. Once I recovered, we slowly made our way up the mountain, hand in hand, helping each other.
Getting older creeps up slowly and often we don’t realize our limitations. The mind says, you can do it, but the body says, not anymore.

Well Abe you and your wife seemed to bond together like a couple of young (at heart) lovers!

My mom is 92 and runs up and down her basement stairs - plenty of stairs - several times a day. She hardly misses a day. I think it has helped keep her heart strong. She gardens every day all summer. Her cupboards are deep, and she crawls on the floor to reach back in the cupboards.

About two years ago, we stopped her from mowing the lawn which is about 1/4 acre.

I believe it is doing the exercises every day that keeps us able to do them. As we grow older, missing a day is like missing years. I stopped my gym classes for a while and I swear I saw the muscles turning to flab immediately.

How we have lived our younger years also take their toll later with skin cancers, lung issues, and heart issues. Did we live moderately with diet and exercise? Or like me, did we live with excesses and deprivations that put the body in a yo yo from health to medications.

In all challenges, however, are found gifts. The gift of laughter shared between husband and wife is as precious as the intended plan.

Merle Haggard (among others) has said, "If I'd known I was going to live this long, I'd have taken better care of myself."

I totally agree. The many years of basketball and tennis, of softball and water skiiing, of running and jumping and doing everything I was capable of has certainly taken their toll on me. Add to that the nights spent playing music in smoky honky tonks and the days spent working in factories, and it's a wonder I can move at all. My knees won't let me run anymore, and anything more strenuous than a round of golf takes me much too long to recover.

I don't regret the sports or the music or the factories, and I'd probably do it all over again, but I like to think that the next time around I'd know when to slow down. At least a little bit.

Ah, youth...

Don, I'm glad to hear that you believe in another go-round. It certainly helps eliminate the fear of losing this time around.

I'm a firm believer that energy creates energy. The more I do, the more I'm capable of doing. After my heart operation, I was told not to do so many things, and the less I did the worse I felt. I decided to live my life as I wish, and when my times comes, it comes. That just me and my beliefs. I don't expect others to agree. I refuse to become a vegetable and be a burden for anyone. When my mind goes, it's over for me. There are times when I think my mind has decided to go - somewhere. Remembering is difficult with current things, but my long-term memory is still strong. I enjoy reminiscing and can remember the smallest details of my youth, however if my wife asks me to do something it seems I forget easily. Could that be intentional?

What?

4/13/2012

Abe..

My Mother used to tell me..." You only hear

what you want to hear." I think that's true, I

would say ten minutes later. " What did you say ?"

I think it's a male thing...



Cheers..Joe...

Conversation between me and my sister-in-law that occurred sometime during the early 90's:

Me: I'm starting to wonder if my brother [her husband] has a hearing problem.
Her: No, he just has a listening problem.

Ann

I was extrememly active in sports most of my life. I lettered in basketball and baseball in high school, played basketball in the Nashville Indendent League until I was almost 40, and had a lot aspriations on becoming a professional bowler. I played tennis and golf, water skied and pitched fast pitch softball, and I think the combined wear and tear is what finally blew my legs out.

After I had my quadruple bypass surgery in 1994, I found that it hurt to swing a golf club, so I had to give that up. It didn't bother me to roll a 16 lb bowling ball, but I think that swinging a club hurt because it closed up my chest, and put some pressure on whatever they had to patch back together.

A few years ago we moved to a town with no bowling lanes, and so I haven't rolled a ball now in about 5 years. However, I've found that I can now swing a golf club, so I've dusted off some of the old ones, bought a few new ones, and absolutely enjoy getting out and playing. I've about given up on music, and almost never pick up a guitar anymore. I've been writing novels and short stories intstead of songs, so I guess my performing days are behind me.

There are some things I really wish I could do, at least one more time. I'd love to stand in the batter's box and feel the crack of the bat against the ball and watch it fly over the fence again. Or take a basketball all the way down the court in a fast break, and feel the joy as it swished through the net. I'd even like to feel the lake water flying by beneath my skis, or hit a really great serve on the tennis court. I doubt that I'll be doing any of this in the near future, but it was sure fun while it lasted.

I haven't stopped doing everything, however. I still go for walks in the park, and given the opportunity I can still hold my own with most folks on a pair of bowling lanes. And then there's the golf...

Anyway, I'll be 71 next month, and to be honest I have days when I feel every minute of it. Thank God that I have more days when I feel 40. I'm still about 6 feet tall, and weigh in about 175, so I'm thinking I still have some more good days, and maybe some more memorable sports moments ahead of me.

The years I have lived show on my face. My joints are stiff, my eyes need reading glasses to read, my lungs have COPD, my heart leaks. But, you know what? My brain is ok. It has a few lapses but it did when I was twenty as well.
I do not give in. I will do as much as I can for as long as I can.

It is the best anyone can do. It is important, too.
Love,
Betty

Betty Fasig wrote:

The years I have lived show on my face. My joints are stiff, my eyes need reading glasses to read, my lungs have COPD, my heart leaks. But, you know what? My brain is ok. It has a few lapses but it did when I was twenty as well.
I do not give in. I will do as much as I can for as long as I can.

It is the best anyone can do. It is important, too.
Love,
Betty

That's the thing of it, Betty - to do as much as you can - which is a different place for each individual. We are all different and unique, so "as much as I can" is also different for each one of us.

No competition. Just going to bed saying, ""I did as much as I could - today."

And each day is different, especially as we get older.

Ann

You all have me beat. Bless you all.

Alliice---No competition means you do whatever it is that YOU can do.

Nobody beats anybody.

That's the whole point.

Ann

I can tell the best horror stories--went to the dentist today.
They asked me if it bothered me to have my teeth worked on. I said,"No, Having a drill going through my skull was worse."
They said, 'You were awake? "
I said,"Yes"
They were horrified.

Everything is life is competition. Not necessarily from others, but from within one's own self. I never do anything that I don't think I might have done it better, and I am seldom satisfied with things, because of my desire to do them better.

Competiton is what makes life worth living, even if it is only between you, and you.

And yeah, I always want to beat someone, even if that someone is myself.

Competing against oneself, in my view, is the best thing. Trying to measure up to what others think you should or can do, is illogical. Our bodies tell us what we can or cannot do with the brain directing activities. Forgetting seems to be a natural process as we grow old. Sometimes it is a blessing, i.e., if we can forget about things that offend us and about self-imposed limitations.

My getting older thing is arthritis, mostly in my hands, sometimes in my hips, shoulders, and back. Some days it is worse than others, but I always try to do as much as I can. Typing seems to keep my hands from getting too stiff, but the days when I get into writer's mode, where I loose track of time and realize I've been at it for hours without really being conscious of what I'm doing or how much time is passing always remind me during the night and next day. They say that arthritis is a form of the body "competing" with itself - or its immune system. So that particular metaphor doesn't do much for me. I do better when I work at cooperating with my body. It tends to respond much better in the long run. Move it when I can; rest when I need to - working to keep it all in balance, and it pays me back with much less pain and stiffness.

Just me.

Ann

This is a depressing thread. I get up in the morning now, and I'm shaving my father.

The hell with all that, I want to beat somebody.

Relax! You have me beat. Except in one way--I can complain more than the rest of you.
I can crochet good too.

4/14/2012

Al...

Your books look great !

Cheers..Joe..