It's nice being slimmer

I just want to note that I'm enjoying being lighter and slimmer. I plan to be that way forever more after realising the impact on my blood pressure.

After two months on my new regime, I went back for a BP check. The nurse's jaw literally dropped, just like my numbers: down from 160/70 to 125/70. "Like an 18-year-old," she lied. But it's good, easily good enough.

Seems the first 5-10 kilo weight loss can reduce blood pressure significantly, regardless of how large you are to begin with. I think I can see why: the heart has much less work to do.

For the record, I weigh around 7 kilos less than I did in my orange bathing togs, when nobody perceived me as fat. Nor did I. But standards have changed, and the switch from stone to kilos has camouflaged the change.

I'm now around 56 kilo, which sounds quite light. But hey, 57 kilo is 9 stone, which sounds heavy to me! That was my weight as a 16-year-old and I was hefty compared with my friends. OK, hour-glass figure, but no sylph.

Anyway I'm getting accustomed to a new improved me. It's been absurdly easy to lose weight: two weeks on the Atkins diet followed by a normal eating. I just swallow less (especially white carbs, wine and coffee). When I'm out I enjoy anything from passionfruit pavlova to bacon and egg butties.

Mind you, I never wanted to be skinny: scraggy neck, I thought — brittle bones — wrinkles.

But to my surprise I'm really enjoying the difference.

• At dance warm-ups I can bend further forward on the floor: no spare (tractor) tyre.
• I feel more supple and bouncy.
• My morning walks up Mt Victoria are a bit easier.
  
• Clothes look much much much much better now. It's cool.

All round I feel heaps better and calmer.

Anyway, no need for beta blockers. (I've got nothing against beta blockers, just preferably not yet thanks.)

Some oddities: even my watch strap and shoes are looser.

And most people don't even notice I've lost weight, which is fine by me.

Enough of this boring talk! What on earth brought that on? Be well.

2 bikes in the bedroom

What a day yesterday was! My friend Jenny had lent me her son's mountain bike, so I could train more realistically for the Otago Rail Trail bike ride next month. About 9a.m. I set off and rode from Oriental Bay to Hataitai, around the harbour front.

Beautiful blue harbour, with a sliver of sun on the far shore. Happy walkers and riders. It's great whizzing along in the fresh air. I was an instant convert. All my previous reservations were swept away in one short hour. I came home glowing and went to Onyerbike to buy a new bicycle for my very own.


1. Dare I ride in traffic? Sure, it's flat riding all the way around the bays, mainly on the footpath.

2. Weather: given Wellington's notorious wild weather, how many days a year could I use a bike without being blown off? Answer: who cares if I bike only 6 days a year? Multiply that by 10 or 15 years and it's worth the expense.

3. Storage: getting a bike into the back shed is painful. Move wheelie bin, unlock shed, jostle with 2 other bikes. Wrestle bike on to a ceiling hook. Answer: carry it upstairs to my apartment and stick it in the walk-in linen cupboard.

4. But won't a bike be too heavy to carry up the stairs? Answer: na! I can handle that, especially on the new SUB (Sarah Ullmer Bike) bike, which is only 12.2 kilos.

Both bikes are now inside, until Jenny takes her Giant mountain bike home. My new bike is a SUB Lime, step through, hybrid, upright position. I can cycle with my head upright, looking at people and scenery and street signs. Perfect!

All my SUB Lime needs is a basket on the front and it will look almost like a genuine old fashioned old-lady bicycle with modern engineering. Old ladies biking want to sit upright, not double over the handlebars with our heads down.

Around Christchurch we used to see old ladies on their bikes all their long lives. My Great Aunt Bim, for example. It was part of their life, and there was no reason to get off their bikes just because they hit 60 or 70 or 80.

Biking doesn't have to be hell for leather up and down mountains or around a race track, delightful as those are for some. For old ladies, it's about going somewhere and enjoying the ride.

Birthday gifts for a 70-year-old

What do you give a woman on her 70th birthday? Why, lipstick and a pedicure, of course.

My clever sisters sent me luxury gifts of immediate usefulness. I wore the bright pink lipstick on stage for the Crows Feet show. And all that dancing left me in dire need of a delicious pedicure. Thanks, Penny, Prue and Lesley!

70 years old at last

Last Wednesday I finally turned 70. It did seem like a significant birthday, more so than almost any other. Even turning 21 was not a big deal, because by then I was married and travelling in a train across (then) Yugoslavia: I felt frightfully mature. As you do!

But 70... the age my mother died, having programmed herself to do so at "three score years and ten". Some years back I observed that in their seventies, people often became fragile, their skin transparent, their gait uncertain, their vision restricted to a narrow circle. That was rather frightening.

Key phrase: "some years back". Looking at today's septuagenarians, I wouldn't dream of making any such generalisation. Nowadays, this is what 70 looks like!

The photo is me on my birthday, in costume for the current show by Crows Feet Dance Collective: "How to be a Domestic Goddess -- La Revue de Cuisine". After rehearsal I was seriously surprised by a little party. (I mean we're all focused on the show, who would remember a birthday?) Champagne and chocolate cake and flowers from the women who are my inspiration.

Back to the philosophical musings: in my case, the real difference between 70 and 69 is a deep and daily appreciation of how lucky I am to live now, here, with these people in my life, with these opportunities at my fingertips. I intend to relish every minute.

Photo: Elizabeth Isaac

Launching Scarlet Heels: 26 Stories About Sex

Hooray! It's Valentine's Day, the official date for launching my new book:

Scarlet Heels: 26 Stories About Sex

Frankly, I wrote this book by accident, and yet of all the books I've written it's my favourite.

OK, favourites change over time, but I feel strangely fond of this one. When I think about Scarlet Heels, I feel affectionate, amused and carefree. I've got nothing to lose. This book is... like a member of my family.

Some of the stories are fictional versions of secrets whispered to me by women aged from 16 to 84. They were so excited, so alive as they talked about a sexual event that was significant to them in some particular way. Other stories are based on memories and hunches about women I've known.

And I kind of love all these women, from Anna, Beryl and Caroline to Xianthe the geeky schoolgirl, Yvette who finds Mr Available, and Zoe, who revives her lost libido to please her husband.

At 3pm this afternoon, six friends and I will quietly — or noisily — raise a glass of champagne in a beautiful garden. We'll eat apple cake and strawberries, I might read a few love poems, and we'll relish the moment.

I had no idea what people would think of this book, but they seem to be enjoying it heaps. So far, critics have called it a darling little book, great, great fun, and happy. They find two or three of the 26 stories steamy, which is about what I hoped. Trust me, this is popular fiction, not erotica.

Now, here's a reward for reading this far.

To celebrate the launch I'm giving away five copies of Scarlet Heels.

To enter the competition, just comment on this blog post.

Give me a reason why you of all people deserve a free copy. The five people with the most convincing reasons will be the winners.

Deadline: Saturday 20 February 2010, 10am New Zealand time.

The 5-Minute Meditator

I'm a born again meditator, for health reasons. My first port of call is this book:
The 5-minute meditator by Eric Harrison

This is a favourite book with a refreshing approach. Eric Harrison has heavy duty credentials as a lifelong practitioner and ex-Buddhist monk, but his mission is to make meditation possible where it's needed most: not in a solitary wilderness, but in the city, in the office, in marriage, in hospital. His teaching is jargon free and not allied to any one tradition.

He explains practical, highly specific ways to relax your mind and body any time, any place, just for a few seconds or minutes. I'm trying to do this. While it's not easy, it sure is heaps easier than conforming to waffly advice like being in the moment.

One of his tips: Do what you're doing. If you're washing the dishes, just do that — without simultaneously planning your day or tackling a problem in your head. Just look at what you're doing, feel the water, admire the plates, notice your hand movements, and so on.

I'm keen to make headway on calming my busy brain, because I'm starting to understand that an older body cannot handle stress as well as a young one. This is a brand new thought, for me. After all, I'm strong and healthy, I love my work, I've got heaps of energy. And yet small things bring me more stress than seems logical. It's a change.

I'm not surprised when I get stressed by tasks like reorganising web files. Naturally I'm stressed when changing php and css files because that's downright dangerous— especially when I'm just winging it.

On the other hand, sometimes I notice myself feeling pressured when doing an easy Code Cracker puzzle! Now that's ridiculous.

All the more reason to meditate.

I buy 10 copies of this lovely book at a time and give them away to friends in need.

My first old-lady ailment

So. It's official. I've got an actual medical problem that is plain and simple the result of my age. What took you so long?

After years of low or normal blood pressure, about a month ago I discovered it's gone up rather too much. I need medication, but my doctor agreed to wait 6 months while I try and tease the BP downwards by other methods.

1. Lose weight. I started by losing 5 kilos through two weeks on the Atkins diet. That's the first time I've ever dieted in my entire life, which probably made it easy. Now I've changed my eating habits in sensible but not neurotic ways. Seems to be working fine. Luckily I love my veges.

2. Exercise more. I upped to 30-40 minutes every day, regardless of the weather. An exercycle is the extra factor besides dancing and walking.

3. Meditate religiously twice a day for 20 minutes.

4. Reduce workload and stress factors. This is surprisingly hard, because I love doing what I'm doing and I've got a ton of energy. Guess I should just do less.

I'd hate to start banging on about my little tiny ailments, because that's what (notoriously) old people do: compare symptoms and treatments.

Still, the blog is about growing older, that's the deal.