Wednesday, September 28

Aging, Schmaging

With age comes wisdom
                                          — Oscar Wilde

“...and crappy eyesight, weight gain, menopause and a pillbox that looks like a candy store.”
                                         — Dianna Stiles

This November I’ll have a milestone birthday, 45, and honestly, I’m kind of freaking out. Up until now I could say, “I’m 40-ish” or “early 40s.” But now, 50 is looming.

I try and rationalize with myself. “Remember how young, inexperienced and scared you were in your 20s (and 30s), Dianna? You’re so much stronger now, more confident, more in control.” I reassure myself.

Yes, I definitely wouldn’t want to go back there mentally, but physically…you betcha!

Just last week I told my personal trainer Will, “I would love to go back to my 20s but with the mind of my 40s.”

That, my friends, would be something.

Of course it’s just a fantasy. My time travel machine isn’t up and running yet. (I’m having trouble procuring enriched uranium from my Iranian contacts.) So I’m stuck here, with my almost 45-year-old brain and body. And I swear, I’m deteriorating at the speed of light.

You know how kids grow in spurts? I’m wondering, do we degenerate in spurts too?

Since last year, I can’t read the dosage requirements on a medicine bottle unless there’s so much light in the room you’d think I was standing on the sun. My Lasik surgery that I had years ago is starting to wane as I need glasses to drive at night. Even though my eating and exercise habits have been stable over the last 12 months I put on a couple of pounds. And I’m always, always cold. I’m going to be one of those old ladies that wears a down parka in Florida.

You’d think that all of this would get me down. And sometimes it does. There are days when I want to throw in the towel, plop down on the couch with a Costco-sized bag of Cheetos, a box of Kleenex and a dozen chick flicks. But I don't. 

I’ve decided that my new motto is: “With age comes belligerence.”

If aging wants to try and bring me down, then fine, give it your best shot.

I’ve just loaded up my yellow pillbox with a multi-vitamin. I’m stepping up my number of weekly workouts. I’ve got a 32 oz cup of water next to my desk to remind me to hydrate. And I’m thinking about getting one of those big, bouncy exercise balls to sit on instead of my desk chair.

I will not go quietly into the night. I might be almost-45, but I’m still full of energy, and anger, yeah, mostly anger. But that rage fuels me.

If you’re struggling to maintain your healthy habits, if the process of aging makes you feel like you can’t win, don’t give up. Just get belligerent. You can do this. You can kick aging’s butt too.

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