Brief respite

I've been quiet this week. The weekend was booked solid with tasks and events (Friday: Mark and John's for dinner, Saturday: ECR picnic and dance with Howard Richman, Sunday afternoon pool hangout with Mark and John again. excessor covered these things nicely so I don't have to. I will add that it was nice talking with robearal who came down from SF for the dance.

I'm frustrated by the lack of progress I'm making. I can barely keep up with the house maintenance, shopping, paperwork, etc., much less carve out time to do anything else. I had wanted to pursue my writing, and perhaps farm out some web-based business ideas to some young friends who like to do web programming, but I make no progress and I feel like I am letting people down. I do manage to spend a lot of time reading, but if I don't start to write back, I'll be a black hole of knowledge. The recent reminders of mortality tend to step up the feeling of pressure.

So I'm 49 now, and it doesn't get any easier. I've succeeded in that I threw off dependence on the job market, and I barely have to watch my investments to generate a decent living. But my shoulder has been unstable for months, and it seems likely that I will never surpass last summer's fitness level. As my time spent on exercise has dropped to about 60% of what I used to manage, my blood pressure has risen to borderline hypertension (which is not surprising since it runs in the family -- my male relatives have mostly died in their 50s of heart attacks.) I can't run any distance without something aching (back, knees, whatever); 6-7 years ago I ran up to 15 miles every other day. My leg press is stuck at #860 and everything seems harder; there is no joy in it, no vroom feeling of euphoria in exertion. I avoid looking at anyone and hope to just survive until the next challenge.