0407: I once tracked my fitness with MapMyFitness, an aptly named tool owned by Under Armour. Yet, it faltered, leaving gaps where GPS signals dropped—mystifying dead spots. Consequently, I abandoned these trackers, despite my participation in a holistic health program since last October, being the hundredth tester for my branch of service. Now, I rely on an ancient Fitbit called ITek, a gift from my mother during a bout of illness in California. Though unsupported by current apps, I devised a method to extract its data for upload to Strava since March 28. "Old but not obsolete," Marina would say. Our similar thought processes likely stem from our lifelong connection. Though I'm a mere shadow of my former self, lacking the same vigor and purpose, I remain fundamentally true to her desire for goodness. Despite my training in adversarial thinking, I endure as a good person, sustained by a dated yet surprisingly functional device—symbolic of resilience, independence, and perpetual forward motion.
0203: I deactivated all my automated projects. My child's constant flow of ideas fueled our morning collaborations, but now I struggle to reignite our creativity. My meticulously crafted code, once meaningful, now feels disconnected from our current endeavors. Our technology, both old and new, boasts safeguards against compromise, leaving me nostalgic for simpler times. Together, we watched "Terminator Genisys," resonating with its theme of aging and adaptation. Marina often quoted the line "old but not obsolete," echoing our research into the aging gene. Analyzing data across a network of machines, we delved into genetic mysteries while preserving our privacy. As my daughter grew, technology advanced, marking the passage of time. Today, feeling the weight of age and loss, I strive to radiate hope and light, even amidst physical discomfort. In my quiet moments, I reflect on our shared journey, determined to honor her memory with unwavering care and compassion.
