A Few Things That I Will Never Again Take For Granted

It was at this time, almost exactly a year ago, that I began my personal CoVid panic.

We were still at The Southern Home with the expectation that we would have another month or so in the sun. We were aware of the awfulness emanating from China and Italy and we were justifiably horrified, but we pushed all thoughts of a pandemic to the farthest recesses of our minds. It simply couldn't happen here, could it? Certainly not in the most sophisticated and medically competent regions on the planet. 

That Friday evening, a full year ago today, we had an outdoor Shabbat barbeque with some friends. It was then that I suggested that this new disease seemed different from other viruses that we had lived through in recent years. Unlike AIDS or Ebola, this sickness seemed closer and more casually infectious. Even to us Torontonians who had lived through the SARS epidemic, this new ailment seemed so very foreign and external. I was chided for my overreaction and gently ribbed about my default panic response. It is true, I do tend to skew towards anxiety and trepidation but this time it felt different.

A few days later, as the images from overseas rose to the top of every newscast and website, we had a patio lunch at a South Florida restaurant in order to wish a bon voyage to a dear couple leaving for a 90-day cruise. It was the last time I ate in a restaurant and the last time I had a meal with anybody other than my immediate family. That same afternoon, I had a long conversation with my brother back home in Toronto and we agreed it was time to get my parents home. There was talk of border closings and flight cancellations and we needed to be proactive. I immediately went to their place, booked them flights to come home three days later, and went to pack. The Husband and I left South Florida the next day and the world was forever changed. 

There has been a lot written about the people we have lost and the things that have forever been altered. Every single person on the planet has had to find their own way to slog through a shitload of misery. But as we enter into year two of this craziness, I have been giving some serious thought to things that really matter but I previously took for granted. 

1. Hugs. I know that everyone isn't a hugger and some people are averse to serious hugging but human contact is fundamental to our well-being. When you can't have a hug, you really want one. I really want one...or many.

2. Smiles. Masks cover-up smiles. Smiles from strangers at the grocery store or from a small child at a playground. We have learned to recognize smiling eyes. It will be great to see great big toothy smiles again.

3. Walking. Who would have thought that it would take quarantine and stay-at-home orders for people to start walking again? Even in the most suburban and car-friendly locations, pedestrianism is the new driving. Let's hope it continues.

4. Dinners with friends and family. I am not much of a restaurant-goer but I do miss the socialization of dinners with people I love. There were a few of those in the summer with our immediate family bubble but they once again disappeared into the ether when we reentered lockdown in November. When this is all over, I will try and say yes to every single invitation and host more than my share of events. I don't want to miss any more good times with loved ones.

5. A really good pair of socks. With all the walking and exercise we've been getting, a good pair of sturdy and water-resistant socks is essential. I have often stated how much I hate socks. I was wrong. Socks matter. I bought some great ones recently and I can't tell you how much they've changed my life.

6. Hobbies. The breadth and depth of new hobbies have been inspiring. I've seen people take up cooking, baking, sewing, knitting, jigsaw puzzles, jogging, photography, gardening, bread-making, cycling, birding, and the list just keeps on growing. In the absence of group activities, hobbies that take you away from your everyday work, are so very important. They challenge the mind and keep the body engaged. Acquiring new hobbies is an underrated benefit of this pandemic.

7. Group Singing. Yes, I have been a part of those pre-recorded Zoom choirs and yes, it does fill a certain void, but there is absolutely nothing that compares with a group of people singing together. There is simply no way to do this in real-time across the internet and it sucks. Singing with people induces endorphins and brings disparate groups of people together. I desperately want to sing with people in the same space again. 

8. Birthdays. I have never been a huge birthday person. It happens every year and I tend to move on but this year has made me realize that every birthday and anniversary is worth celebrating. Some of us are moving closer to a second Covid birthday. How crappy is that? I had a conversation recently with my Other Dad and he told me that he wants to host a huge birthday party when this is all over. Everybody gets a cake. Everybody gets balloons. We've all earned it.

9. Phone Calls. I am a terrible phone friend. I prefer texting and emailing. I simply don't chat well and the phone demands it, but the pandemic has made the contact of the human voice necessary. It doesn't have to be every day or even every week but phone calls or Zoom visits have been an important part of my continued good mental health. 

10. Jewish Ritual. Pre-pandemic, I never thought twice about the rituals on which I was raised. Funeral attendance, shiva visits, rejoicing with bride and groom, caring for the sick, communal prayer, Passover seders, Shabbat candle-lightings, have all been altered or abandoned this year. It has been soul-crushing. The idea of a second Pesach with an online seder is sad beyond belief but I am more determined than ever to make it work. I hope others feel the same because without that connection to our rituals we have become Jewish shells with no substance. 

There is a glimmer of light on the horizon and there is a real chance that some of the things we've lost will come back in the next few months but I will never again take them for granted. I am interested in what things really matter to you that you previously took for granted. Please add them to the comment section or hit me up on Facebook. 

Shabbat Shalom to all who observe.

I Need a Fitbit Support Group

While vacationing in Newfoundland this summer I experienced a sensation like never before. It wasn't the thrill of viewing the majestic icebergs for the first time nor was it the glee of getting up close and personal with the puffins. 

No. My true excitement was saved for that wondrous first time my Fitbit vibrated with enthusiasm to inform me of hitting 10,000 steps. There was something almost magical in the knowledge that five miles was not only an attainable goal for this otherwise chronically underachieving fitness wannabe, but a surpassable one. We had been together for only a couple of weeks at that point, my Fitbit and me. I had decided to purchase it at the end of June after first guinea pigging one for The Husband as a birthday gift a few weeks earlier. Watching him slowly descend into the psychosis of the Fitbit-obsessed was more than enough incentive to join him in this crazed madness. I simply couldn't let him outdo me when it came to the most basic of human motion....walking. So I bought one for myself just before our early July sojourn out to the east coast. 

It was comical to witness the competition that commenced between me and my spouse. He would continually lament and constantly complain that given my shorter strides, it meant that I was covering far more steps in the same distance than was he. (This is the only time in my entire life when being under five feet tall was viewed as having an athletic advantage.) While my wristlet was blinking the ominous five lights indicating that I was oh so close to the daily goal, he was still stuck back on the wannabe four. Our travelling companions even joined in with the rivalry. Twin Son's Better Half decided that she was absolutely on board with my totals, even though she has about six inches on me. Far better to achieve my 17,000 steps in a day than The Husband's 15,000. That was the trip where Fitbit and I became fast friends and truly one with each other.

In short, Fitbit is my latest obsession. It is the perfect device for the Type A who has trouble sticking with a realistic fitness program. It pushes me to the treadmill or for a walk or run outside. Those 10,000 steps hang over me like the Sword of Damocles. I must walk, I must walk. It sends me helpful little reminders when I am slacking or slightly short of my daily objectives. It understands and calculates the differences in my movements. It tracks my horrendous sleep patterns. If I find that I am slightly deficient in my totals, I walk up and down the stairs in order to achieve maximum "stepage." I get positively giddy seeing that walking through the candy aisle at Walmart gave me 1,000 steps. There exists a tremendous sense of balance in that knowledge. How could anything that encourages constant motion be bad?

My parents were totally intrigued by the rubber bands adorning our arms. By August, they had both purchased Fitbits and were well on their way to joining in with our mania. My dad has taken to walking the halls in his building, while mom tramps around the apartment as she chats on the phone. She has taken to calling me with updates on her totals. Yah. Like I can't beat a seventy-something when it comes to walking. (I have yet to surpass that crazed bitch.) All of this follows their daily workouts that they have duly increased in order to boost their totals. My dad lost 10 pounds in his first month with the gizmo without changing a single thing in his diet. They are travelling at the moment, but haven't neglected to call on a regular basis to notify me as to their progress. It seems that a cruise ship is the perfect place to foster good Fitbit habits.

This week, the unthinkable happened. My Fitbit died. It simply stopped working. Only six months old. It is true that the good die young. Is it possible that I did this? Did I overwork it? Could it simply not keep up with my new fully active lifestyle? The people at Fitbit were gracious and apologetic. After determining that the battery was indeed faulty, they have shipped me a new one gratis. But until it arrives, I need to discover a different motivation for my daily activity. I feel naked and lethargic. I can't seem to get myself off  the couch to do anything with the same verve or spunk. Until Fitbit returns, my workout world is lifeless and colourless. It is truly sad to discover how important the positive reinforcement of a little black rubber band is to me. I miss the lights. I miss the vibrations. I miss the camaraderie. I miss the competition with The Husband. Fitbit has turned my every step into an over-achievement. 

Come home soon.

I'm 50 and I Can Still Touch My Toes. Can You?

I was always a very diligent student.

I did my homework and assignments in a timely manner. I rarely handed anything in late, I asked for help when needed, and I studied in a conscientious manner. But no matter how zealous I was in my work habits, I always ended up cramming before a major test or exam. It seemed as though no matter how prepared I thought I was and no matter how meticulously I had followed the lesson plans throughout the year, I believed that I could get that much better if I pulled an all-nighter.

Of course the logic was flawed. While the intensive review probably helped a bit in the short term, it was the consistent work ethic over a long period of time that was the true source of my scholastic success. And yet....I still have a measure of that panicked student in me when it comes to my yearly physical.

For some strange reason, even after all of these years of attempting to maintain healthy practices, I have this mistaken belief that if I suddenly alter my lifestyle, eating habits, and daily routines a few weeks before the doctor sees me, I can somehow "pass" the exam without giving a great deal of  thought to the work required for my overall physical well-being. I become extraordinarily diligent about remembering to take my supplements. I work out six days a week instead of the usual four to five. I eliminate as much sugar as I possibly can from my diet and I cut way down on the so-called "white foods" so that the scale might pop a more friendly number. It is all so very stupid.

The fact of the matter is that it is the daily choices that have helped my overall well being and not the intensive cramming. A few extra milligrams of vitamin D might look good on a blood panel, but if I don't maintain the regimen it is effectively useless. It is the little things that I have chosen to make a part of my routine that have helped improve my wellness, both physically and emotionally.

• Cutting out diet soda and all artificial sweeteners from my diet. H2O is my friend and most of my friends rarely see me without my water bottle or thermos of green tea. I was a huge Diet Coke consumer. It has been two years since I kicked the habit, and I have never felt better. 
• Our strictly vegetarian diet has improved my stomach issues, my cholesterol, my weight, and my energy levels. I'm not perfect. Sometimes I indulge in a bit too many carbs (especially at this time of year) and I cannot quit chocolate, but the increased consumption in a variety of the best that nature has to offer has been a boon to my overall health.
• I have been so much better about remembering to take my supplements. Vitamin D, B12, Red Yeast Rice, CoQ10, Calcium, a multivitamin and a few others are all part of my daily intake. My sugar and cholesterol numbers are great in part because I am not as lax as I previously was in doing as my doctor prescribes. (Do not take any supplements without first consulting a health care professional. Many vitamins and natural remedies are contraindicated with other medications and can be dangerous. Talk to your doctor about your specific needs.)
• I move. Everyday. Without fail. It might be a walk outside or a run on the treadmill. It might be a weight routine or even just a half an hour of going up and down the stairs, but I move. We don't realize how sedentary our 21st century lives have become. We need to push ourselves to get off of the couch and away from our screens and just move.

I still have a lot to work on. I don't get nearly enough sleep and my stress levels can be off the charts depending on the day, but I am trying. As I get older I have discovered that I want it more. I want to be like my 75 year old parents who are on this very day trekking in Southeast Asia. I realize that I can't guarantee good longterm health, but I can aid in it with smart choices. Our health is not something that we can fix in a day. It is something that requires longterm commitment and care. Small choices and changes in routines are the best ways to kickstart a new approach to wellbeing. Our time here is short enough. Make the most of it.