I’ve been waiting a lot. In regards to this blog, I’ve been waiting until I figured out exactly how and why to continue writing. Sharing about my activity — movement, exercise — was starting to feel too much a combination of I had to “show off” a bit with a good dose of “who cares?” One can go on Instagram and into Facebook groups and see people of all ages and ilks demonstrating, sharing, celebrating (and showing off). There is enough fitness sound out there. I don’t want to add static noise into the mix. I more enjoy being inspired by updates from my diligently playful Instagram friend @kanti.chiba or watching the adventurous @ginnymaccoll than sharing whatever I’m doing (or not doing, as more days have been since late last year). (I like to check out the exploratory Darryl Edwards as well, by the way.)
I’ve been waiting for the inspiration of how to focus this blog not so much about the movement I’m doing, which a lot of grandpas can’t relate to at all, but rather on the experience of being a grandpa, who happens to move some. When my wife offers such advice, I take it to deep heart consideration. In the meantime . . . I’m waiting.
Since last December I’ve been waiting for my work to become normal, since I took on the duties of a colleague who left our organization, essentially doing what previously had been two jobs and trying to discover how to meld it into one. It’s not simply been more hours, but more packed, challenging hours, more always trying to catch up and sometimes slipping even further behind, more . . . ? Just a lot more.
I’ve been waiting for sleep to return. It’s been horrendous for months. Puts a crimp on focus, energy, recovery.
I’ve been waiting to discover a new approach to being able to do consistent, challenging movement (progressive overload, you know? It’s important). I’ve given primary attention to the foundation of walking my Golden Retriever morning and night, a half hour twice a day, three to four miles total. (Just to be fitness-y, it’s a lot of Zone 2 with some max heart rate intervals thrown in a couple of days a week, and, then, sometime just sauntering with the doggie. Sauntering.)
A fairly consistent morning yoga practice is now hit and miss since I’ve chosen — I need to — spend a full hour each morning in journaling, reading, prayer and meditation. That’s my fuel for the day. That’s my yoga. It’s necessary to make a day the best it can be. At work I can always do a set up pushups or lunges or a couple of sun salutations or bear walk around the empty conference room for a couple of minutes when on a stand-up or bathroom break. My goal each day is to do just one of those things one time in the midst of work, so I’ve at least got that. Or, my goal might be to hang for max time after walking Chester one morning or evening.
I don’t relish big movement meals most days; rather, I grab, maybe savor, the occasional bite-sized movement snack. The walking and sometimes-run interval (ooo . . . I keep forgetting skipping/bounding! I need to do that.) are certainly movement; still my want and need is to use my full body more consistently in a challenging way. We grandpas and grandmas need to be doing that. Use it or lose it, for real.
I’ve been waiting for the big event. My grandpa mode is like training for an event that’s happening down the line, since we visit my grandson and his family maybe every other month. With my eye on that prize, I keep acting to be able to be a grandpa who can move on game day.
Right now all of us are waiting for the imminent arrival of . . . a granddaughter! Visiting two-year-old Christian will be enhanced by seeing . . . ??? Apple is what we’ve been calling her, evolved from “Apple Truck“, which Christian picked as a name nine months ago. A new grandpa mode! (And, another future black belt! *Smile*)
So, what’s the point of this post? Maybe it’s, “Life happens, and in the midst of life, we do the best we can.” Maybe it’s also, “It’s all good; just keep moving, or start moving again.” To harken back to my martial arts instructing days, in regards to self-defense: No matter who you are or what your capabilities, “Do something! . . . And keep moving!” As our great grand master phrased it, “Flowing water is alive, it never gets rotten or dies.”
During a recent visit to see Christian and his family, the following very direct application of movement practice happened (the Thomas the train segment). Most important, it was just fun! It’s why we grandpas might want to keep moving.
Hey grandpa! Do what you can. Do something. Keep moving. Keep flowing. Keep alive.