43
In about 20 minutes, the clock will tick over and I'll be 43.
It's not much of a milestone, as birthdays go, and one I really haven't thought too much about. Another date on a calendar designed at first to make you feel like you're growing up, then at a certain point it shifts to make you feel like you're growing old.
That said, I feel better than I did when I was 33. A lot of that has to do with the fact that I'm just shy of 60lbs lighter, and I live a semi-active lifestyle. I say semi-active because the fitter I get, the more I notice the people that are just way more in shape than I will ever be. I'm doing alright, at least compared to many of my contemporaries and those that came after me. A quick trip to Walmart to check out the strange forms humans can mutate into is all I need to put things into perspective. It's like "Honey Boo Boo Theatre" sometimes, which is a show that thankfully I haven't seen past the opening credits. That's the future, and it scares me. Of course, as a rapidly aging person, everything scares me.
You kids, get off my lawn!
Saturday I watched my daughter do her first alpine ski race. She wasn't on the podium in her class, but she was all smiles at the end. Just competing and skiing was all she needed to have fun, which is a state of existence that I want to preserve as long as I can. Winning and losing can come much later, if she chooses to keep racing. For now, it's all about having fun and being active when many of her classmates are inside watching TV. Then again, many of those parents would say I was abusive for having her out racing down a hill when it's in the low single digits, but what do they know?
Of course, being the Type-A competitive type, I had to run the course after all of the kids. Being a big fish in a very, very small pond is a status I guard jealously. My back showed me that lugging my daughter around all day probably wasn't the best warmup, nor was my lack of race training this season helping at all. I made some horrible turns, linked some ugly recoveries, and generally made a mess of things. Still, age and treachery overcame youth and enthusiasm once again, so the pecking order is secure for another season. It isn't getting any easier, though.
The first thing I'm going to do on my birthday? Get on the trainer. At my age, I'm afraid of what might happen if I don't.
It's not much of a milestone, as birthdays go, and one I really haven't thought too much about. Another date on a calendar designed at first to make you feel like you're growing up, then at a certain point it shifts to make you feel like you're growing old.
That said, I feel better than I did when I was 33. A lot of that has to do with the fact that I'm just shy of 60lbs lighter, and I live a semi-active lifestyle. I say semi-active because the fitter I get, the more I notice the people that are just way more in shape than I will ever be. I'm doing alright, at least compared to many of my contemporaries and those that came after me. A quick trip to Walmart to check out the strange forms humans can mutate into is all I need to put things into perspective. It's like "Honey Boo Boo Theatre" sometimes, which is a show that thankfully I haven't seen past the opening credits. That's the future, and it scares me. Of course, as a rapidly aging person, everything scares me.
You kids, get off my lawn!
Saturday I watched my daughter do her first alpine ski race. She wasn't on the podium in her class, but she was all smiles at the end. Just competing and skiing was all she needed to have fun, which is a state of existence that I want to preserve as long as I can. Winning and losing can come much later, if she chooses to keep racing. For now, it's all about having fun and being active when many of her classmates are inside watching TV. Then again, many of those parents would say I was abusive for having her out racing down a hill when it's in the low single digits, but what do they know?
Of course, being the Type-A competitive type, I had to run the course after all of the kids. Being a big fish in a very, very small pond is a status I guard jealously. My back showed me that lugging my daughter around all day probably wasn't the best warmup, nor was my lack of race training this season helping at all. I made some horrible turns, linked some ugly recoveries, and generally made a mess of things. Still, age and treachery overcame youth and enthusiasm once again, so the pecking order is secure for another season. It isn't getting any easier, though.
The first thing I'm going to do on my birthday? Get on the trainer. At my age, I'm afraid of what might happen if I don't.
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