Day 5: One foot in front of the other

Walking is the one form of exercise I've managed to stick with for any length of time. It has a lot to do with the effect walking has on my state of mind.

When I need to clear my head, I like to walk. When I'm stressed out, I like to walk. When the beauty of an autumn afternoon draws me outside, I like to walk -- and drink in the colors before they fade.

I've tried keeping track of the minutes and miles I walk, but I can't seem to stick to a strict schedule, not when there's a toddler in the house. So walking has become something of a luxury for me.

My mother, who turned 97 a few months ago, can't walk more than a few steps because of the arthritis in her knees and hips. I think of her every time I feel a twinge of pain in my own knees. She often says she'd give anything to go for a walk, something she used to do quite often. It reminds me never to take my health for granted.

I hope to spend more of the year ahead putting one foot in front of the other, letting my legs, aches and all, take me to that place where my breathing is steady, my head is clear and life seems full of possibilities.

Day 4: Anybody seen my brain?

Four days in and I've already managed to forget to post a message to this new blog. I'll be sticking a post-it note on the bathroom mirror later today to remind me not to forget again.

I've gotten used to these lapses in memory, these so-called senior moments. At first, way back in my 40s, they used to annoy me because they struck me as a harbinger of deterioration to come. But I was a much-too-busy person in my 40s, too busy to keep tabs on everything I needed to remember. And I wasn't good at writing things down -- things like meetings and appointments.

I'm still not that great at writing things down, preferring instead to trust my now 59-year-old memory. It's my way of living life on the edge. So I do forget the occasional meeting or appointment, much to my embarrassment. But I vowed when I turned 50 that I wasn't going to let my life get as crazy as it was when I was in my 40s.

I hope my 60s find me even more willing to focus on the here and now.

Day 3: Failure? What failure?

I spent some time today advising an undergraduate student who thinks he might like to become a journalist. Part of me wanted to talk him out of it, and part of me wanted to thank him for believing in the craft I've been practicing for the past 34 years.

Then I said something I've said to countless other students in my years of teaching: Dream big.

Life has a way of forcing us to rethink and reshape our dreams, but we should never let go of them. Lately, though, I've felt some of my own dreams slipping away: dreams of writing more, painting more, being more.

The busy-ness of life is one reason. Fear of failure is another. While I don't think I can make my life less busy just yet, I can try to let go of that fear.

Hey, I'm pushing 60. What have I got to lose?

Day 2: Where's my energy?

People often tell me I look tired. But then, I've had dark circles under my eyes since I was a teenager. I've tried covering them with makeup, but it doesn't help much. So I've become resigned to looking tired, even when I'm not.

I've had my energetic moments, but for much of my life I've been, well, stuck in second gear. Being a low-energy person isn't been a big deal -- unless, of course, you happen to live with a toddler. And I do.

One reason for my birthday resolution to take better care of myself is the new level of exhaustion I've come to know since my then-newborn grandson came to live with us. Three years on, I struggle to keep up with him.

It's a vicious cycle: I'm too tired to exercise, so I don't. And because I haven't been exercising of late, I'm tired all the time.

So tomorrow I'll park as far as I can from my office without actually leaving campus. It's a start. And that's what I really need to do: start.

Here's hoping it doesn't rain.

Day 1: Where's the half-and-half?

I reached for the pitcher marked "half-and-half" at the coffee kiosk in the building on the campus where I teach. It was empty. Next to it stood two nearly full pitchers, one marked "2 percent milk" and one marked "skim milk."

At age 59 years and one day, I am easily 25 pounds overweight and have achy knees, not to mention a fair amount of flab where my muscles used to be. Clearly, I should have reached for the skim milk.

I didn't.

"Do you have more half-and-half?" I asked the woman behind the counter.

She was happy to oblige. Out of the fridge came a chilled pitcher filled to the brim with the good stuff.

I indulged.

Then I bought a slice of pumpkin bread. Hey, pumpkin is packed with beta carotene. It's GOOD for you. So are the chopped walnuts, especially if your LDL level is high. And I read somewhere that coffee is supposed to help keep your mind sharp.

Those are my excuses, and I'm sticking to them.

364 days and counting

Yesterday marked the end of my 59th year on the planet. That makes today the first day of the year-long slog toward my 60th birthday. I intend to A) get there and B) get there in better shape -- physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually -- than I am today. I have my work cut out for me.

As part of that commitment to myself and to what I hope will be a better year, I'm starting this new blog, my second on blogspot.com (My other blog is "Keeping in Touch," which you'll find at maryhaupt.blogspot.com). I considered naming the new blog "On the road to geezer-hood" but decided "Pushing 60" was a kinder, gentler way to refer to the year ahead of me -- and any of you who are approaching that birthday.

I plan to post a brief message to the blog each day about my successes (and failures) along the way in the hope that you might find something useful here. If not, it should be good for a laugh or two. The last thing I want to do at this stage of my life is start taking myself too seriously.

Feel free to use the new blog to share your own ideas on this next decade of life. Getting older may not be the easiest thing we'll ever do, but we don't have to do it alone.