The cycle, it is vicious
Sunday, May 13, 2018
Had a day of celebrations today, what with Mother's Day coinciding with my parents' 45th anniversary. Add to that my nephew's birthday being tomorrow, and it was a fun day. Played a little swamp soccer with the young man, which would ordinarily be called backyard soccer, except for all the rain over the past couple of days leaving my brother's backyard pretty wet and muddy. I probably should have tossed those jeans I was wearing into the laundry tonight, but it's a bit late for that now. Alas.
The soccer, which was preceded by a basketball game with the nephew in which I was thoroughly thrashed (in my defense, he had the full set of home court rules in effect, which included no blocking of three point shots, which in his case probably needs to be moved back a yard or two, given the regularity at which he made those shots) did bring home a point that has become glaringly obvious over the past few months, namely that I, a week shy of my 43rd birthday, am in incredibly poor physical shape. Perhaps the weight is the reason for all the ailments, but I am often, and in myriad ways injured. Right now, the knees are very whiny, my left elbow has been hurting for a couple of months, my right shoulder is starting to complain about all the pickleball I've been playing, and weirdly, one or both of my achilles tendons seem to be "catching" as I descend stairs, on occasion. It doesn't hurt, I don't know whether I need to be concerned about it, but...it's weird, to say the least. Add to that generic muscle aches I get now and again.
I feel a little silly complaining about it, from a "yes, yes, I know, I'm not old, and there are many many older than me people on here for whom aches and pains are a legitimate daily fact of life" perspective. But, man, I feel like a slug, and am hugely cognizant of how much I've slowed down over the past 2-3 years. It took me 70 minutes to get through that 5k in April, when just a year ago, I finished in 57, and in 2014 I did it in 47 minutes. Granted, I was ~40 pounds lighter then, and absolutely, it makes a difference, but is it the end all and be all reason? And would shedding that weight allow me to recapture that sort of "speed"? Or has the damage been done?
And what of 10 years from now, or 35? I see my mom, at age 77, struggling badly getting up and down stairs, and I wonder if I'll be moving even that fast at that age. Assuming I make it there, of course.
So, incentive to lose the weight exists, but when the acts taken to do so result in aches and pains and outright injury that make me less likely to do those acts (i.e work out, play sports), it turns in a vicious cycle that in the last 5 years keeps ending with a higher score on the scale. It's rather disheartening, to be honest.