Last week, the second digit in my age changed. I reminded myself and had a quick laugh about how I used to think thirty-nine was ancient.
At fourteen, little did I know; I would lift some weights, shoot a couple baskets, have an occasional tear, hop on and off airplanes, laugh so hard til I cried, say I do, box with Boom and voila… Thirty-nine would arrive! Luggage or no luggage, my destination was on time.
Let me be the one of a small number to tell you; what a joy it is to be at my workspace and have to re-adjust positions constantly because my leg, back or shoulders are getting tight. What a delight it is to drive out of the city shifting from right to left trying to find the right spot. What a jubilation it is to purchase shoes with a purpose (my joints talk sporadically). What a triumph it is to read labels when grocery shopping (high mileage oil intake). What a rejoice it is to workout and workout and workout until I realize; my body doesn’t recover as quickly as before (more reps less weight). What a laughter it is that I was given additional time. And yet I hear it so often… “I don’t want to get older.”
Uh- newsflash, advancing in years is divine. If not, think about the alternative.