I've had this program called chair pilates for two years now, and done a couple of the exercises, but before the operation a lot of it was just too iffy. Now I've decided to get serious about exercise so, battling my 'shan't' reflex all the way, I've started up again. Chair or no chair, I'm panting at the end of each ten minute segment. And I can't do a lot of the movements because my damnable glutes are cramping on me again, in spite of heavy-duty muscle relaxants. Oh woe, oh woe.

(What's with my tablet? If I back button on anything the screen goes blank until I start typing again. A nuisance. Thought it was something hinky at DW, but LJ does it too.)

Bro came by today, hisashiburi ni. Says we must go out to dinner sometime which is fine if it happens. Bro bemoans the lack of good detective novels. I refer him to my two Golden Agers, Mitchell and Bellairs, though they might be too English cozy for someone who likes Perry Mason, Lee Child, and James Lee Burke

Meanwhile, warm or cold, the city is gorgeous. The reds so very red, the yellows so brilliantly yellow, the skies an archetypal clear blue/ clear white, the air smelling sweetly of woodsmoke. Am being buddhist about this, living in the moment because the moment is so perfect (except for the spasming pain part.) Having despaired of ever being able-bodied again, I prepare myself for the day when I must move to an apartment and so make the most of my present situation while it lasts. As ever, I believe that losing weight will remedy things. Would love to be 30 pounds lighter but will settle for losing the fifteen I put on post-op. To which end I've started bicycle machineing again and put bread in the 'rare treat' category. Must slowly cut out pasta and rice as well though those are the starches that pad my vegetables or, in the case of rice, create my perfect protein with edamame. Really, *what* did I eat two years ago on that low-carb diet? Oh, and sugar. My craving for sweet things is unabated though fat will do instead, ie croissants.