Right now That’s about 75. Combine being fat and unfit with nearly 4 weeks of complete physical inactivity and this slightly reluctant couch potato has become mash. Top of my wish list for 12 months time is to be feeling my age, if not my shoe size rather than feeling like Im wearing someone else’s Granny slippers along with the compression stocking I have been promised as a short-term ( please God) solution to the ravages of recent cellulitis.
Today I ventured out again for a short walk with G the dog. Luckily he is very accommodating of my current snails pace as long as we can get to the field and he can run and pretend to be a puppy. He is the perfect example to me. He was pretty overweight and very unfit after a few years of too many treats and not enough exercise and gradually step by step we got him back into condition. So if I just stick to his dry food, joint supplements and running around the field I should be just fine soon.
Seriously I know this is a work in progress. I don’t drink, gave up smoking finally and for ever 3 years ago and overall my diet is pretty healthy again. I’m just paying my dues. And much as I really love the ladies of the red hat brigade and their robust, joyful attitude to being middle-aged plus, I know that my plans for the next 40 years or so don’t involve throwing caution to the winds but rather in being as young, fit and full of life as I can possibly be. And girls, this is going to take some WORK!!!!
When I am an old woman I shall wear purple
With a red hat which doesn’t go, and doesn’t suit me.
And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves
And satin sandals, and say we’ve no money for butter.
I shall sit down on the pavement when I’m tired
And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells
And run my stick along the public railings
And make up for the sobriety of my youth.
I shall go out in my slippers in the rain
And pick the flowers in other peoples’ gardens
And learn to spit.
You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat
And eat three pounds of sausages at a go
Or only bread and pickles for a week
And hoard pens and pencils and beermats and things in boxes.
But now we must have clothes that keep us dry
And pay our rent and not swear in the street
And set a good example for the children.
We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.
But maybe I ought to practice a little now?
So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised
When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.
by Jenny Joseph