How Should I Live the Limited Time I Have Left?

 As retirement begins to feel less distant, the balance between saving money and truly living becomes more complicated. During Japan’s long holiday season, I spent quiet but meaningful time with my family — visiting my son, seeing my mother for Mother’s Day, traveling with my wife and daughter, and celebrating my wife’s 60th birthday. None of it was extravagant by modern standards, but all of it reminded me that good health, family gatherings, and ordinary happiness may exist only within a surprisingly limited window of life. This reflection is about aging, uncertainty, desire, and how to spend the finite time that remains.

 

This year’s long holiday season was a rather relaxing one for me.

I visited my son (who thankfully does not live very far away), went to see my mother in Tokyo for Mother’s Day, traveled to a hot spring resort with my wife and daughter who had temporarily returned from New York, and celebrated my wife’s 60th birthday.

All of these occasions involved a certain amount of expense, of course, but every one of them became a memorable experience.

As I think about life after retirement, I know I need to be more careful about spending money.

But if I focus too much on saving, eventually I may end up doing nothing at all.

At the age of 62, the fact that I can still walk comfortably, gather together with all four members of my family, and enjoy life with our two-year-old Flat-Coated Retriever, Anne, may actually place me in a rather fortunate moment of life.

Perhaps this is the last relatively carefree period I will ever have.

Eventually, my back will bend, I will need a cane, either my wife or I will become ill first, and Ann too will grow old.

The time left to me is finite, and probably much shorter than I imagine.

If I knew exactly when these things would happen, perhaps I could prepare myself accordingly. But such things are known only to God.

That does not mean I should live in fear of them.

To spend every day fearing illness, aging, earthquakes, or typhoons would also feel somehow wrong.

If the amount of time I have left were suddenly made visible, what would I actually do?

There are countless things I still want to experience before I die.

If I started listing them all, there would be no end to it. Worse still, I might spend so much time dreaming about life that life itself quietly passes by.

In the end, people live because there is always something they still want to do.

But simply following desire alone does not help us grow.

By continuing to carry the burdens that naturally come with life — studying, working, struggling, learning — perhaps I can make the limited time I have left into something truly meaningful.

 

Time may be limited, but perhaps that is precisely why it deserves to be lived carefully. 

・・・

Vocabulary for Learners

• finite — 限りのある
• carefree — 気楽な、心配のない
• accordingly — それに応じて
• countless — 数え切れないほど多くの
• quietly passes by — 静かに過ぎ去る
• burden — 負荷、重荷
• meaningful — 意味のある、充実した
• in the end — 結局のところ

Rethinking Our Standard of Living in an Age of Endless Price Increases

 From pet food delivery fees to software subscriptions, price increases have become part of daily life in Japan. Even when prices stay the same, products quietly shrink in size. Behind these small frustrations may lie something larger — the limits of maintaining the high standard of living Japan built during the bubble era. Perhaps the time has come not only to complain about rising costs, but also to reconsider what kind of　life we truly need.

 

The day before yesterday, I received an email saying that the delivery fee for my dog’s food would be increased.

Yesterday, it was the price hike for my Office subscription.

None of these things come with negotiation or explanation.

If you cannot afford them, then stop using them and find something else — that is probably the logic behind it all, but there is something remarkably merciless about it.

As for dog food, perhaps I could simply go buy it myself.

But even driving costs money these days, so in the end, small price increases have to be accepted.

Office software used to be something you bought once and kept using until the next version came out.

You could protect yourself a little by skipping every other upgrade.

But once everything becomes a yearly subscription, there is almost no room left for self-defense.

And since I use it for work, stopping is not really an option.

After driving earlier word processors out of the market and achieving a near-monopoly, companies can now raise prices almost unilaterally, while users have very little means of resistance.

In any case, prices keep rising day after day.

Even products with unchanged prices often contain less than before.

“Stealth inflation” used to be subtle enough that people barely noticed it, but recently it has become rather shameless.

There is talk about lowering the consumption tax in Japan, but prices are rising faster than any possible tax reduction would help, so in the end it may amount to almost nothing.

At the same time, considering Japan’s enormous national debt, some international organizations even suggest that the consumption tax should eventually be raised instead.

During the bubble era, Japan’s standard of living reached one of the highest levels in the world.

Since then, Japan has continued trying to preserve that standard while maintaining its place among the world’s advanced societies.

But perhaps that, too, is reaching its limit.

Maybe the coming era will not be about seeking even greater convenience, but about maintaining the social infrastructure we already have — the Shinkansen, the highways, and the systems built over decades.

And honestly, perhaps that is already enough.

We ourselves may also need to stop assuming that our current standard of living is something permanent and unquestionable.

Perhaps we need to learn how to live a little more modestly.

Still, once a way of life has expanded, making it smaller again is never easy.

The difficult part is not enduring a poorer life, but accepting that “enough” may already have been reached.

 

・・・

Vocabulary for Learners

• merciless — 容赦のない、無慈悲な
• subscription — 定額契約、サブスク
• monopoly / near-monopoly — 独占 / 寡占
• stealth inflation — ステルス値上げ
• consumption tax — 消費税
• national debt — 国家債務
• social infrastructure — 社会基盤
• modestly — 質素に、控えめに
• unquestionable — 疑う余地のない
• maintain its place among ~ — ～の中での地位を維持する

 

The Motivation Behind a Pathologist’s Work

 Pathologists rarely meet the patients whose lives are affected by their diagnoses. Unlike clinicians who speak directly with patients and witness pain, recovery, or gratitude firsthand, pathologists work quietly behind microscopes, often with little more than tissue samples and brief clinical data. Yet every biopsy and every diagnosis belongs to a real person waiting anxiously for answers. This essay reflects on how a pathologist maintains motivation and empathy despite that distance, and why remembering the patient behind the specimen matters so deeply.

 

Outside of pathology outpatient clinics, pathologists rarely interact directly with patients.

Even during a code blue, I have hardly ever gone to the scene, because I would probably only get in the way.
(Just to be clear, if someone collapsed in the street and an AED was needed, I would of course join the rescue effort.)

Clinicians, on the other hand, stand before patients who are suffering right in front of them.
Naturally, they want to relieve that pain and distress as quickly as possible, and they are also able to share the effects of treatment with the patient.

Pathologists do not have that experience.

When diagnosing biopsies or surgical specimens from malignant tumors, kidney or liver biopsies, or even small skin lesions and moles removed by clinicians, the information we receive about the patient is often limited to age and sex.

Of course, there are many other data points—height, weight, blood pressure, laboratory findings, and so on.

But regardless of how much information exists on paper, the patient themselves is not standing in front of us.

And because of that, there are moments when, despite working for patients, a pathologist risks losing a sense of emotional connection with them.

That is why we must constantly remain aware of it.

For the patient, a pathological diagnosis may be a once-in-a-lifetime event.
They are waiting for the result, hoping to understand what is happening inside their own body.

A pathologist must never forget that while looking through the microscope.

We pathologists, too, are working for patients.

 

Even behind a microscope, pathology is still about people.

・・・ 

Vocabulary for Learners

• Pathologist — 病理医
• Code blue — 院内緊急蘇生対応
• Biopsy — 生検
• Surgical specimen — 手術検体
• Malignant tumor — 悪性腫瘍
• Emotional connection — 感情的なつながり
• Remain aware of — 常に意識しておく
• Once-in-a-lifetime — 一生に一度の
• Look through the microscope — 顕微鏡を覗く
• Relieve pain and distress — 痛みや苦しみを和らげる

 

Why So Much Waste Exists in Modern Society

 Our daily lives are filled with things that seem unnecessary — direct mail, excessive packaging, piles of paper no one really needs. Yet many of these “wastes” continue because they serve some hidden purpose in business, psychology, or society itself. Sometimes what looks pointless from one angle may still have value from another.

 

When I return home, there is almost always a piece or two of direct mail waiting for me.

I can no longer remember where or when I became connected to the senders, but the mail keeps arriving year after year.

I will probably never buy anything from them, and sometimes I even feel the advertisements may continue arriving long after I am gone.

Of course, not all of them are completely meaningless, but still, it feels like an extraordinary amount of waste.

Years ago, when preparing materials for an academic meeting, I was surprised to learn how expensive printed booklets actually were.

Judging from those prices, these advertisements must also cost a considerable amount of money.

Naturally, some of the products being advertised are sold for dozens or hundreds of times more than the printing cost itself, so perhaps the expense is insignificant to the companies involved.

Even so, it is not free.

Ninety-nine percent of those direct mail advertisements are never used — never leading to any purchase — and are simply thrown away as waste paper.

Paper also accumulates quietly in my workplace.

We have been promoting a paperless system, and the speed of accumulation has certainly slowed, but somehow documents still pile up around me before I even notice.

At times, I feel it is not because I am untidy, but because unnecessary things keep arriving from elsewhere.

Eventually, they too become garbage.

Something may be necessary for someone, but if it has no use, it becomes waste.

Recently, a confectionery company announced that it would switch some product packaging to black-and-white printing because of concerns over shortages of printing materials.

But does colorful packaging really count as waste?

Are attractive colors designed to stimulate our desire to buy truly unnecessary?

Or do even seemingly useless things exist for some reason after all?

The line between waste and necessity may be more difficult to understand than it first appears.

Perhaps even waste exists because someone, somewhere, still believes it has value. 

・・・

 

Vocabulary for Learners

• direct mail — ダイレクトメール
• accumulate — 蓄積する
• paperless system — ペーパーレス化
• confectionery company — 菓子メーカー
• stimulate desire — 欲求を刺激する
• meaningless — 無意味な
• significant — 重要な／かなりの
• waste paper — 古紙、紙ごみ
• line between A and B — AとBの境界線
• necessary / unnecessary — 必要な／不要な

Different People, Different Ways of Thinking

We often judge society, politics, or even the people around us too quickly. But perhaps many of the things that frustrate us are not simply “right” or “wrong,” but differences in perspective shaped by different lives and responsibilities. In this reflective essay, a Japanese pathologist and blogger considers the limits of criticism, the meaning of “people are different,” and why leaving questions unanswered may sometimes be more honest than forcing conclusions.

Perhaps because I have been living a slightly more relaxed life lately, I find myself unsure about what to write.

Should I write about anxiety over world affairs, frustration with Japanese politics, hopes for Kamakura, or the decline of public manners?
Whatever the topic, it somehow risks sounding critical.

There is nothing wrong with thinking about negative things.
But such thoughts can easily turn into something that sounds like mere criticism.

A blog may be just a blog, and yet not merely a blog.
Some readers may feel uncomfortable reading harsh words, and careless remarks can hurt people more deeply than we imagine.

At the same time, if I try too hard to avoid offending anyone and write only agreeable things, the result becomes flat and uninteresting, lacking any real self-reflection.

Why are people born into this world in the first place?

As each person grows into adulthood, they gradually take on different responsibilities.

Whether those responsibilities are small and personal or large enough to influence the world, they vary endlessly from person to person, and cannot simply be denied.

If that is true, perhaps human existence itself should be viewed positively, and perhaps life cannot be divided so easily into simple categories of good and evil.

If we look at the events happening around us — in society and across the world — not as things to reject outright, but as differences in the ways people think, they may become a little easier to accept.

In this blog, I often end up using phrases like “people are different.”
The conclusion usually lands somewhere between acceptance and resignation, without becoming either completely.

Even when I feel that I should finally bring my thoughts together, I rarely arrive at anything resembling a clear conclusion.

And so, in the end, I simply leave questions behind for the people reading this blog.

Still, each person will think differently and feel differently.

If my small questions can encourage someone, somewhere, to think about something a little more positively, then that alone would make me happy enough.

 

Perhaps not every question in life needs a perfect conclusion. 

・・・

Vocabulary for Learners

• world affairs — 世界情勢
• critical — 批判的な
• careless remarks — 不用意な発言
• self-reflection — 自己省察
• responsibilities — 責務、責任
• divided into categories — 分類される
• acceptance and resignation — 受容と諦め
• arrive at a conclusion — 結論に至る
• encourage someone to think — 誰かに考えるきっかけを与える
• perspective — 視点、考え方

 

The Youngest Time Is Always Now

On a beautiful spring day in Kamakura, our family gathered to celebrate my wife’s 60th birthday. The pleasant weather, the walk to the restaurant, and the breeze coming through the open windows made the day feel quietly special.

Turning sixty may sound like a major milestone, but time never really pauses. The present moment is always the newest — and also the youngest — point from which we can begin something new.

 

Today in Kamakura, the temperature and humidity were just right, and the weather could not have been better.

To celebrate my wife’s 60th birthday, our son and daughter came to join us for lunch at a nearby restaurant.

Of course, we walked there and back.
The air felt pleasant both ways, and during the meal, a comfortable breeze came through the open windows, making the food taste even better.

Sixty years sounds like a long time, yet when you look back, it passes surprisingly quickly.

Time moves continuously, without stopping.
That is why the present moment is always the newest, and also the youngest.

My wife says there are still many things she wants to do.
It is not really a matter of being “still young.” Rather, whatever we want to begin, now is the youngest moment from which to start.

As for me, I also felt that perhaps I should stop talking about being tired and try doing something new while I still can.

The youngest version of ourselves is always the person we are today. 

・・・

Vocabulary for Learners

• humidity — 湿度
• breeze — そよ風、心地よい風
• milestone — 節目、重要な通過点
• look back — 振り返る
• continuously — 連続して、途切れずに
• present moment — 今この瞬間
• while I still can — まだできるうちに、元気なうちに

Clothes, Age, and the Quiet Atmosphere People Carry

Fashion trends come and go, often faster than we can understand them. One year everyone seems to wear oversized sweatpants and sneakers, and the next year an entirely different style appears out of nowhere. Looking at these changing fashions, I sometimes wonder not only how trends are created, but also why certain clothes suit certain people at certain stages of life.

Having grown up during Japan’s designer-brand boom, I remember the excitement of fashion very well. Yet as I have grown older, I have begun to feel that clothing reflects something deeper than appearance alone. What matters is not simply what we wear, but whether the clothes match the person, the occasion, and the atmosphere surrounding them.

This is not really a story about fashion itself. It is more about age, character, and the quiet connection between outward appearance and the life a person has lived.

 

Yesterday’s topic about sweatpants unexpectedly attracted a lot of attention, which suggested that many people were curious about that seemingly strange style.

Fashion trends always come and go, so I imagine that the current sweatpants look will eventually fade away as well.

And what will come next? I have absolutely no idea.

Apparently, new designs are first introduced at some sort of fashion collection and then spread into everyday society a year or two later. I sometimes wonder whether those sweatpants styles had once walked proudly down the runway at the Paris Collection or somewhere similar.

I am not especially interested in clothing myself.

That said, my youth happened to overlap perfectly with the golden age of designer brands in Japan, so I did care about fashion to some extent back then.

Comme des Garçons, Men’s Bigi, Men’s Nicole — there were probably many more, but now they remain only as pleasant memories from a distant past.

Looking back on those days, I sometimes feel that no matter how elegantly a person dresses, if there is nothing substantial inside, the result ends up looking rather shallow.

Perhaps things are a little different for women, but for men especially, I think that is often true.

A suit only begins to look natural on a man when some gray starts appearing in his hair, not when he is barely past twenty.

Of course, this may sound outdated now, since we no longer live in an age of suits. Still, I think clothing has its proper timing, and every situation calls for attire that matches its own TPO — time, place, and occasion.

People are free to wear whatever they like.

But that freedom also reveals something about the way they live and the atmosphere they carry around them.

Perhaps clothing is ultimately that kind of thing.

 

What people wear may change with fashion, but the atmosphere behind the clothes tends to reveal who they really are. 

Vocabulary for Learners

• fade away — 廃れる、消えていく
• golden age — 黄金時代
• designer brands — デザイナーズブランド
• shallow — 薄っぺらい、中身が浅い
• gray hair — 白髪
• outdated — 時代遅れの
• attire — 服装（ややフォーマルな表現）
• TPO (time, place, occasion) — 時・場所・場合に応じた振る舞い
• reveal — 明らかにする、にじみ出る
• atmosphere — 雰囲気、空気感

 

The Rise of Sweatpants and the Flattening of Social Life

Sweatpants were once considered sportswear or something to wear only at home. Yet today, they have become an everyday sight not only in neighborhoods, but also on trains, in shopping districts, and almost everywhere else.

This change may seem trivial at first glance, merely a matter of fashion or comfort. But perhaps it reflects something larger. The boundary between private and public life has gradually become blurred, especially since the pandemic normalized remote work and relaxed dress codes.

In this essay, Colo-ken reflects on the spread of “one-mile wear,” the fading distinction between on and off, and the possibility that modern society itself is becoming increasingly flat, comfortable, and lacking in contrast.

Recently, I often see women wearing gray sweatpants on trains and around town.

Sweatpants were originally sportswear. Back when I played basketball, we wore them over our shorts during the winter.

For that reason, I initially felt uncomfortable even wearing sweatpants indoors as loungewear. But once I tried them, I had to admit they were comfortable.

Over time, sweatpants gained social acceptance, and more people began wearing them casually around the neighborhood.

For many years now, I have seen people stepping out of cars at highway service areas dressed entirely in sweatpants. But lately, it has become completely normal to see people dressed that way almost anywhere.

Apparently, this style is called “one-mile wear.”
But it no longer stops at one mile.

For walking the dog or going to a nearby convenience store, perhaps it is acceptable. But wearing sweatpants to ride the train somewhere still feels strange to me.

To me, sweatpants are basically an extension of indoor clothing — something closer to underwear than proper public attire. Yet there is probably no stopping this trend anymore.

Even doctors now spend entire days wearing scrubs.

When even hospital directors dress that way, perhaps dress codes and the sense of discipline they once represented have largely disappeared.

The turning point was probably the COVID pandemic.

Back then, there were endless stories — half joke, half truth — about people attending online meetings wearing a suit jacket on top and shorts underneath.

I still spend most days without a necktie, but I have never worn scrubs regularly.

Perhaps pathologists simply do not need them because our clothes rarely get dirty. Or perhaps it is just my age. Either way, I have never felt comfortable wearing them.

As clothing that resembles indoor wear becomes more common, the boundary between “on” and “off” also becomes blurred.

People walking confidently around in sweatpants certainly look relaxed, but a life without clear distinctions between work and rest is also a life without much contrast.

Perhaps society itself is moving toward something flatter and more uniform, with fewer ups and downs than before.

That said, many people still wear proper business suits, and as someone who has long abandoned neckties myself, perhaps I am not really in a position to criticize people in sweatpants.

Comfort makes life easier, but too much comfort may quietly erase the boundaries that once gave daily life its rhythm. 

・・・・・

sweatpants — スウェットパンツ

loungewear — 部屋着

social acceptance — 社会的受容

one-mile wear — 近所用の気軽な服装

dress code — 服装規定

discipline — 規律、節度

blurred boundary — 曖昧になった境界

contrast — メリハリ、対比

uniform — 均一な、画一的な

abandoned neckties — ネクタイをやめた

 

 

Effective Use of AI in Pathology Diagnosis and What Future Pathologists Will Need

 As AI rapidly transforms medicine, pathology has often been described as one of the specialties most vulnerable to automation. Yet the reality inside diagnostic practice appears more complex. Reflecting on AI-assisted pathology, war technology, and human judgment, this essay explores why the future may demand not fewer pathologists, but stronger ones.

As the long holiday came to an end, both the temperature and humidity began to rise, reminding us that the hot season is approaching.

Many people still seemed to be away, and the trains were not as crowded as I had expected.

During the holidays, the only time I touched my PC was for less than an hour each day to write this blog. Other than that, I merely did a few searches on my smartphone.

The rapid progress of autonomous AI systems in the war in Ukraine has become a major topic, and people have already begun to imagine a future in which wars are fought mainly by robots. That future may arrive as early as next year.

The idea that attacks on people and infrastructure could determine the course of war is deeply unsettling.

Human ingenuity will likely focus on how to defend against such attacks, but even then, people will probably consult AI for strategy. In that sense, the situation feels completely contradictory.

People often discuss how AI may take away human jobs, but how much work will actually disappear because of AI?

Pathology was once considered one of the medical fields most likely to be replaced relatively early by AI, but it now seems there are clear limits to that prediction.

I myself sometimes consult AI to make sure there are no missing differential diagnoses, but up to that point, I still have to guide the process.

As image databases continue to accumulate, some diagnoses are certainly becoming easier, and there will probably be more situations where human specialists only need to confirm the results. Even so, a vast number of problems remain beyond what AI alone can solve.

AI-assisted diagnosis will undoubtedly become more useful in the future, but paradoxically, that future may require pathologists with even greater abilities.

There may no longer be much need for humans to handle tasks that beginner pathologists can already manage.

However, the reasoning behind a diagnosis and the way the diagnosis itself is constructed must still be led by the pathologist.

AI merely waits for instructions, as if asking, “So, what shall we do?”

To put it extremely, even if one places a specimen on the stage and says, “Diagnose this,” AI can do nothing if the specimen itself is incorrect.

Pathologists must possess enough skill to give AI appropriate instructions, and acquiring that skill naturally requires effort. In the end, what we must do may not be all that different from what was required when I first became a pathologist.

There is something profoundly valuable contained within what human beings have patiently built over generations.

The more powerful our tools become, the more deeply human wisdom itself may be tested. 

 

・・・ 

Vocabulary for Learners

• autonomous AI systems — 自律型AIシステム
• determine the course of — 〜の趨勢を決定する
• deeply unsettling — 非常に不安を掻き立てる
• differential diagnosis — 鑑別診断
• accumulate — 蓄積する
• AI-assisted diagnosis — AI支援診断
• paradoxically — 逆説的に
• specimen — 検体、標本
• possess enough skill — 十分な力量を持つ
• patiently built over generations — 世代を超えて営々と築き上げられてきた

 

Blue Nemophila Hills and the End of a Quiet Holiday

On the final day of Japan’s long holiday, I visited the famous nemophila fields at Hitachi Seaside Park. Although the flowers had already passed their peak season, the pale blue hills were still beautiful enough to make the trip worthwhile.

The cool weather suited my dog Ann perfectly, and she happily walked far more than usual. After several days of genuine rest — something increasingly rare in modern life — I found myself thinking about work, family, and the exhausting uncertainty of world affairs. News from the Middle East changes by the hour, and trying to follow every development no longer feels meaningful.

On the way home, I stopped to see my son, who works in Ibaraki. Seeing that he looked healthy and was doing reasonably well brought a quiet sense of relief before returning to the reality of another demanding workweek.

On the final day of the holiday, I went to see the nemophila flowers at Hitachi Seaside Park.

Their best season seems to have ended in late April, but they were still more than beautiful enough.

The temperature never rose very much today, and it remained chilly throughout the day. Still, it was perfect weather for Ann. She looked comfortable and happily walked much farther than usual.

 

During this holiday, aside from doing a little work last Saturday, I spent almost the entire time resting.

Working constantly is not everything. Taking life slowly once in a while should help give us the energy to move forward again.

As for the situation involving America, Israel, and Iran, things have fallen into complete confusion, constantly shaken by President Trump’s abrupt reversals and contradictory statements. At this point, trying to follow every development no longer seems particularly useful.

On the way back from the nemophila fields, I stopped by to see my son, who works in Ibaraki.

He seemed reasonably well, and that gave me some relief.

Well then, back to work tomorrow.

An overwhelming amount of work will probably come rushing in again, but I need to wake up this holiday-softened body and do my best not to be crushed by it.

 

Rest does not solve everything, but sometimes it gives us just enough strength to begin again. 

・・・

Vocabulary for Learners

• nemophila fields — ネモフィラ畑
• passed their peak season — 見頃を過ぎた
• chilly throughout the day — 一日中肌寒い
• once in a while — 時々は
• abrupt reversals — 朝令暮改、突然の方針転換
• contradictory statements — 矛盾した発言
• reasonably well — まずまず元気に
• come rushing in — 押し寄せてくる
• holiday-softened body — 休みでなまった体
• be crushed by it — それに押しつぶされる

 

 

A Refreshing Day and a Quiet Check on My Health

It was a pleasantly dry and refreshing day across most of Japan, except for Okinawa, which had just entered the rainy season. A morning walk turned into more than routine exercise—it became a moment of reflection. An old set of health check records, discovered during a household cleanup, offered a chance to look back over the years. Comparing past and present numbers can be surprisingly revealing, not only about physical changes, but about how we age and adapt. This is a small record of that realization.

It was a pleasantly dry and refreshing day.
Except for Okinawa, which entered the rainy season yesterday, it seems that most of the country enjoyed clear skies.

This morning, I walked my dog Ann alone, taking the hiking trail from behind Myohonji Temple up to Mt. Gion.

I found myself wondering whether the ups and downs had always been this demanding.
For a moment, I recalled the days when I used to walk these paths lightly with my children.

When I returned home, my wife showed me an old set of health check results she had found while doing a thorough cleanup.

They were more than 15 years old. I thought about entering them into my health management app, but unfortunately, the data was too old to be supported.

So instead, I decided to jot down part of the record here, including more recent data.

　　　　 Feb 2009　 Feb 2015　 Aug 2022　 Aug 2025　 Today (home)

Height (cm)　 176.7　　　　176.0　　　　175.1　　　　174.8　　　　—
Weight (kg)　 80.9　　　　78.9　　　　74.7　　　　75.8　　　　76.7
BMI　　　　 25.9　　　　25.5　　　　24.4　　　　24.8　　　　25.4
Waist (cm)　 99.0　　　　94.0　　　　89.9　　　　91.7　　　　—
Blood Pressure　136/89　 116/79　 129/81　 132/82　 127/77

Aside from becoming slightly shorter, my waist measurement has actually improved, perhaps thanks to my recent efforts at dieting.

Next time, I hope for even better results.

The reason today’s hike felt more demanding is probably not just my body shape.
Muscle strength, eyesight, and balance likely all play a role.

Still, I would like to make an effort to keep walking regularly.

 At the very least, I would like to keep putting one foot in front of the other. 

 ・・・

Vocabulary for Learners

• refreshing：爽やかな
• thorough cleanup：徹底的な掃除
• jot down：書き留める
• demanding：きつい、負担の大きい
• measurement：測定値
• aside from：〜を除けば
• effort：努力、心がけ
• put one foot in front of the other：一歩一歩進む（比喩表現）