Monday, November 19, 2012

All Groan Up

The simplest act of getting up from bed in the morning would elicit a groan from me. To be echoed moments later by my wife as she forced herself to rise from her recumbent position.

With our ages racking up years beyond three scores we were noticing sometimes not too subtle changes in our way of life. Somehow it now takes a longer time for us to go from point A to point B where, for illustration purposes, point A would be the sofa and point B the dining table about 3 meters away. This is living la vida slo-mo.

Then there are the oohs and oofs as the soundtrack of our daily activities: standing from a supine position, getting up from a chair, sitting down, lying down, going up and down the stairs - anything that involves movement.

Which is sort of strange considering our lifestyle. Let me clarify that. For the most part we spend our days in front of a computer - a desktop for me, and a laptop for her. Perhaps while in this semi-torpid state our bodies got accustomed to the sweet sensation of uber relaxation hence the complaints we got when we tried to extricate ourselves from this lethargic mode.

However - and this is a big however - Monday and Wednesday mornings we have our dancercise. Both of us would join other ladies (yes, I am the only hombre in the group) of the same generation and we would coax our hibernating muscles to sway to the lively tempo of the cha-cha-cha and boogie. I'd like to think that we do quite well on this activity - interestingly there were no groans that accompanied the conga beat. 

Our other pastime is bird photography. This of course entails travelling, sometimes walking on narrow trails while lugging our camera gear, oftentimes standing for long periods of time under the hot blistering sun, or at times getting doused in a cool drizzle. Certainly these are conditions that should have toned our bodies to handle the rigors of such a hobby.

So why then those inarticulate sounds that emanate from our mouths during the times when we were not grinding to the music of a salsa or stalking some feathered creature in the wild? I wish I had the answer to that. I guess we just have to accept the fact that we have finally graduated from growing pains to pain groanings.

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