New Year!

It may be a sign of getting older that a New Year doesn't quite inspire me as it once did. I used to feel I had a clean slate, a new beginning, practically a sense of redemption. It was the same in September with the start of the school year. Of course it's been decades since I went to university. And I never felt quite finished with 2021, or 2020 for that matter, not even 2019. I don't think I'm finished being 53 or thereabouts. Time really has begun to slide past, a rushing river rather than the trickle of molasses I used to experience. 

Nevertheless, the calendar says I must learn to write another set of digits and so I sit me down to see where I might push myself for a while before getting, not discouraged so much as, distracted. I struggle to remember what seemed so important in January that I can't do something different in February or March. 

Bill and I returned to pilates class yesterday. We even paid for new instruments of torture: a squishy ball  each and some exercise bands. He is very good at finding a quiet moment to practice in the dining room. I quit trying to do this because he always seemed catch me out and want to watch. I'm better at ignoring him, I guess. Our instructor keeps asking me if I'm not really proud of him, which I am, though it's becoming rather annoying how she fawns over him. He is often the only man in the class. I'm mostly proud that this doesn't bother him like it would many men. The other guy that sometimes shows up is also a long distance walker, but probably closer to 64 than to Bill's (very soon) 74. 

Bill and I have been doing some running "together" several days a week. We've been doing something called 'parlauf', which apparently just means paired interval training. Bill has always used the term to refer to running in circles. We used to do this with the running club where he paired the fastest runner with the slowest then the next fastest with next slowest and so on. As part of a group, each pair would run around the pond at Exhibition Park until they met their partner, then they would each turn around and run until they met again and so on. This meant each person ran to their ability, with the faster person running further. Bill and I have a circular course that includes our front gate and circles the Metro station. My side of the course is slightly hilly, into the sun and wind on the way back and passes two bus stops (people waiting surely wonder what I'm up to if their bus is slow); I've no idea about his side of the circle. Of course I'm familiar with the route, but things look altogether different when running. The fact that I can't do more than two out-and-back efforts tells me I'm ridiculously unfit.

I've been moving our (my) diet towards being more plant-based, and seasonal. My current rotation for main courses through the week is (Sunday) soup/stew, roasted vegetables, beans, lentils, grain, fish, meat or cheese (Saturday). We each cook our own lunch and Bill frequently chooses sausage or beef burgers. I try to keep my opinions to myself, but of course I don't succeed. He is aware of both the personal health and the environmental issues associated with these choices and that's all that I can do. He nearly always eats whatever else I put in front of him cheerfully, so I can't complain. While I'm not likely to ever be vegetarian, never mind vegan, when I do eat meat I really appreciate it. 

I have pages and pages of other wishful thinking I'll not even mention now, but if anything comes of it I'll try to let you know. 

A lovely Christmas present from Helen & Martin.