Body Maintenance & the Obsessive Mind

         Dim moonlight guides me as I slide from the cozy confines of our bed. Peeking out from under the blanket our rat terrier acknowledges my movement with a subtle opening of one eye. After the obligatory stretch, she claims the warm space I have vacated. Her job description as best friend has never included waking at such an ungodly hour. A harsh snort suddenly disturbs the silence of the room and I jump in surprise. Why do I always react to my husband’s customary snoring in such a bizarre fashion? I can only conclude that I have nerve dementia, another age-related defect. Fueled by this jolt of adrenalin, I manage the ascent to a standing position and begin a cautious trek to the bathroom. The familiar jab of arthritic knee pain reminds me that the cute little joke I tell the children on a regular basis is far more truth than fiction. I am old and decrepit, and on this morning, it‘s not particularly funny. To add cruel insult to injury, I manage to step on a half eaten dog chew, which causes a new wave of suffering in my foot. The injustice of receiving this double whammy causes me to "shout" whispered curses under my breath. A frantic look back to the bed reassures me that my rant has disturbed nobody other than myself.
         Removing my nightshirt, I take a deep breath and step on the scale. The numbers appear and I react with a jubilant "yes!" A look in the mirror reveals a huge smile that even the wrinkles can't erase. The state of this tiny nation is improving. No permanent damage has resulted from my surrender to temptation at the State Fair. How could anyone be expected to resist the aroma of an elephant ear anyway? I turn on the shower and prance into it, all prior irritation suddenly forgotten in the glory of this moment.
         I emerge from the stall chipper and eager to begin the day. The running gear I’ve hung on the towel rack the night before awaits me.  It is by this ingenious method that I con myself to my workout each day. Closing the door gently, I descend the stairs. My first  priority is to make coffee. I will need a minimum of two cups to jump start this rusty old engine. While it brews, I turn my attention to the white binder on the counter. Inside I record my weight, adding a special smiley face in celebratory delight. The log includes separate columns to record my blood pressure, pulse, and the pace of my run. Warm up and post workout stretches will need to be checked as well. It is vitally important these things be done every day and noted. If I don’t write it down, I can’t count it as being done. Relying on my memory has become a useless endeavor.
         Managing and preserving my mental health is a challenge of much larger scope. I sit at the kitchen table and consider the things I’d like to get accomplished today. As I review the long list I’ve composed, I realize that I have neither the will nor the energy to do any of it. I crumple the list in my hand with defiance. Today there would be no list.
         The day has fast forwarded to this moment. It’s after dinner and I‘m sitting at my computer. I’m tired and frustrated. In front of me is the same sentence, in the same story I began over a month ago. I just can‘t get the words out, and I think it‘s time to give up the pen, so to speak. What the hell happened to my day? I have no list, no proof of my existence since dawn. Well, let’s see if this mind can recall any of it. There was my tightly controlled body maintenance regime, which I proudly completed early on. Then a visit to a gymnastics class, where we were greeted by the beaming smile of a little girl who understood how much we loved her. I even shared a secret password with her sister, who seemed very grown up at the age of seven, yet was still as sweet as ever...Later, as my husband turned into our driveway, my spirits lifted as I saw the beautiful haven that was my home. The shadows of two loyal sentries, tails wagging, stood in the front hall waiting. A quick game of ball in the back yard was all these two needed to be completely happy. I marveled at their uncomplicated appreciation for the good things in life. How fortunate am I to be the source of such joy? Afterward, I finally filled those empty birdfeeders and was immediately rewarded for my efforts with a chickadee's thank you song. As soon as I finish here, I plan to watch a movie with the man I love. What do I have to show for today? A happy heart. I lived these hours with wonder, recognition of my great fortune, and just a little bit of body maintenance.