Time and Energy – Priceless

There are only so many hours in a day. A cliché, I know, but a truism that becomes truer as the years fly by, at least for me. 

As I age and the years tick off one by one, it seems I have less time to do anything. I realize nothing changes, but my body reacts differently to the passing hours as the day goes on. 

Am I sleeping more? Not most nights. I often nap during the day. I feel as if I won’t make it until dark if I don’t allow myself a short snooze. I fall asleep watching TV in the evening. Late-night outings are a rarity my body pays for the next day. 

I wake up not exactly ready and eager to jump out of bed, but energized enough to rise, shower, dress, and shuffle over to my coffee maker. Next stop, the couch. I grab my computer, check emails, and complete a couple of puzzles, or if there is not much on my agenda that day, I admit to spending too much time deciphering more than a couple of brainteasers. On the other hand, literature about staying young and healthy tells us activities like puzzles exercise the brain and help keep us mentally alert.

I start with the New York Times mini-crossword, then move on to Spelling Bee, Connections, Wordle and Octordle, not all completed each day. Sometimes I exercise my brain on the Blossom game or Letter boxd, although I usually avoid Letter boxd because it is a black hole. I become engrossed and suddenly too much time has passed.

An unrelated confession: I am cheap. But there is a connection between my thriftiness and puzzles. To access and complete puzzles the Times entices the user to purchase a monthly subscription. I am not opposed to paying for the privilege of wasting time, but there are too many recurring fees on my credit card. I don’t want more. So occasionally The New York Times temporarily cuts me off. 

I could forego my decadent routine and be more productive. I could exercise – physical workouts – early in the morning, either at home or at the gym, my routine before and during COVID.

What happened? 

I got lazy, or more specifically, lazier. My get-up-and-go abandoned me and has not returned. My energy level, never supercharged, has diminished. 

I spent a full day last weekend with my grandkids at a child’s paradise – Chocolate World and Hershey Park. I trotted behind the kids as they sprinted from one attraction to the next. By the end of the day my iPhone registered the distance covered: six miles. It has been a long time since I walked that much.

I kept up with the young ones and enjoyed the day. My granddaughter and I stepped into Starbucks for a drink and the opportunity to rest our feet, but the line stretched to the door. We reluctantly walked out. 

My days are often busy, but rarely as actively on the move as the day at Hershey Park. I survived but was a wreck the following day. My body demanded downtime, and I acquiesced. 

This is my life nowadays, a life in a senior body that at times screams, “Enough!” A body that relishes extended couch time. A body that does not protest early bedtimes. A body whose energy level is no longer a high-octane one. 

When younger I could put off until the next day, week, month or year, whatever I wanted to do. But with seniorhood comes the realization that time is a valued asset that should be wisely allocated. Unfortunately with age has not come wisdom.

Energy. Time. Must-haves that cannot be purchased, hoarded, saved, created, or traded. Energy and time – priceless.