Turned 68 and realized, somewhat abruptly, that getting up from my garden bed had become an actual production — hands on knees, a small grunt I’d have denied making if anyone asked, a moment of genuinely wondering if I needed help. That
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Saw one of those “7-day challenge” graphics on Instagram, the kind with a different exercise listed under each day, clean little icons; it looked doable enough that I screenshotted it before I could talk myself out of trying. Hadn’t worked out in
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