I've been chipping away at this body for the past 8 months or so, using new tools, new methods, and more consistent dedication. The changes haven't been dramatic to anyone on the outside, and they are extremely slow, which is the way to secure long-lasting progress.
Like a marble statue that takes years to take shape, I've been trying to - not turn back time, which is impossible - but make changes that will give me more longevity and less pain as I hopefully continue to age.
It occurred to me recently that though I have no plans or means to "retire," I am officially only 10 years away from what used to be the legal retirement age of 65 (it's actually 67 now, but no matter). To consider that the working world is almost done with me and I should be going into my golden years pretty soon is sobering and honestly, frightening. I fear death. I'm not at peace with it. I want to see my child grow up, have victories, hopefully have a family. I want to be a grandma and like to think I even have a chance of being a great grandma, though that's unlikely given how old I was when I had my son.
I often say we are not promised tomorrow and I carry that acutely with me every day. And so, the chipping away.
Over the winter I bought a walking pad that I was able to plop in front of my TV. This ensures that I get a walk in every day, rain or shine, too hot or too cold out. Don't feel like going to the gym and just want to veg and watch TV? Get on the walking pad. While I have always consistently gotten 10K steps a day 6 days out of 7, this makes it easier.
I can also jog on the walking pad, though due to my age and injuries/physical challenges I can really only jog once or maybe twice a week. I am not fast. I've not been a fast runner since I was in high school and on the track team, where I did short-distance sprinting and the long jump, hurling my small, lithe body through the air as easily as I throw my dog's squeaky ball now. Those days are long behind me.
I ran throughout my 20s and 30s but when I had my baby at 40 I immediately began peri-menopause after giving birth. I didn't know it at the time, but my body ran away from my control no matter what I did. I was working harder than ever and while I could still run 5Ks, recovery was difficult.
Turns out I was not only doing everything wrong physically and from a dietary/nutrition standpoint throughout my 40s, I was also getting bad advice from underinformed doctors who don't know much at all about the menopausal woman and how to treat her.
At 50 I got on hormones and stopped the runaway train. But the train that arrived at that station was beaten and broken and massive amounts heavier than the one I started with at 39 when I got pregnant. I shattered my ankle and gained even more weight. I was heavier at 50 than I was when I was 9 months pregnant and moving was painful and difficult. I kept at it after I rehabbed the ankle, as I like moving my body.
I learned how to better balance my nutrition so it was protein-forward and added back strength training. I dialed back the cardio and worked on zone 2 training (keeping my HR below 150), and incorporated more rest and stretching and mobility movements.
Yesterday I ran the first post-menopause 5K that I was able to run for 95% of the time. It was at the local zoo, where I have gone walking frequently on free Mondays throughout the winter. I ran my own race, paying no attention to the huge, fast pack that immediately pulled ahead of me. When I got to the big 600 foot hill leading up to the primates building, to save my heart, I didn't run it, I walked. But my powerful quads trained on that hill all winter and enabled me to keep my HR reasonable while I passed many others. We turned at the top and ran back down and I lengthened my strides, letting the road do the work for me.
Though I was running at a faster race pace than my training runs, I felt confident my HR was not in a dangerously high zone. I used to be fast, yes, but my HR during a 5K would get so high - that is no longer safe for this 55 year old overweight body. But I let myself work at a consistent but higher RPE than when I train. And when I saw the finish line, I sprinted across it, grateful to be alive.
One knee was very sore afterwards but nearly 24 hours later this morning, after rest, compression, and a little Voltaren yesterday, it's greatly improved and I know it will be fine.
I tried to do this race a year ago and I had to walk most of it. I jogged a little here and there, but I felt ashamed of my time and my performance when I was done. It's so hard to forgive yourself for getting old.
This year, I was 6th in my age class of 13 women runners 55-59. Very respectable.
I thanked my body yesterday. I gave it nourishment, an epsom salts bath, and babied it so it could rest and recover. This is a better way to feel about it than ashamed and embarrassed.
I will continue to chip away. Who knows what will be revealed.