This morning when I woke up, I was older. I think. Technically, I don’t really turn 37 until 8:39 p.m. which I think has something to do with the Julian calendar and the demotion of Pluto as a planet. But, let’s go ahead and round up and consider me older. Ordinarily, these things (birthdays, I mean) don’t bother me. One day, same as the next, with just a little more fanfare than usual. However, this morning and, truth be known, most of this week I’ve felt the eerie spectre of mortality creeping up on me. So, to flip off fate, I decided to kick Charon in the ass and hasten my trip up the river Styx by hopping on the treadmill this afternoon. I got 3 miles in before my body, shuddering from the sudden onset of exercise, screeched to a halt, screaming in agony. Actually, it wasn’t all that bad, but I did get winded a lot quicker than I should have.
Anyway, short of this burst of exercise, I haven’t been all that active this year which I suppose has contributed to my feeling older. I know 37 isn’t all that old, actuarially speaking, but it’s a pretty good age. I’m fairly happy with how these last few years have turned out so I don’t know why I feel older. I imagine it’s the creaky joints and expanding middle that are more pronounced and are not helping the situation.
So, I’m rededicating myself in the new year to a more healthy lifestyle in order to avoid feeling older next year. Who knows? Maybe next year at this time at 38, I’ll be feeling my spry 32 year-old self again! Here’s to another year!
See you in the funny papers!