It's my birthday next week. I shall be 51. Blinking Blimey! 51? I've never been that bothered about age or birthdays, but today I am feeling every one of my 50 and quite a bit years. I should really go for a run, or a walk, or go gardening, or hoover. Well... maybe not hoover ... that would be a choice too far... But I really don't like the thought of getting older. I saw an advert the other day which was for some sort of "over 50's" product and at the end it said "Welcome to the fold". Grey haired people were being welcomed in to the group and I realised that I was becoming one of those people. We all become one of those people. The relentless onset of age turns us all from vibrant, slim, healthy people to people who struggle getting up off the sofa.
I am not yet in my dotage, I am glad to say, but I don't like the way my body is changing. I could always run, ski, jump about with very little trouble. As the years go on I am getting creaky. My throat is sagging, my tummy is turning into a bit of a barrel and I can't stop it. I eat healthily, try to keep my mind active and attempt to exercise. The thing is, though, that it gets harder and harder. For the first time ever I begin to understand why really old people just give up and let it all sag, why some older people sit and watch telly all day.
Maybe the grey cold of winter doesn't help... Its miserable. I don't feel warm or healthy. Perhaps when the summer months arrive I will be reinvigorated. I hope so.
Old age is something we don't really talk about ... like death. But when you start to realise that you are getting older... its just not nice. I don't like seeing my body getting flabby and heavy. I don't like getting unfit.
The obvious option is to say "Pull yourself out of it and get on with things. Go for a run. You're not old." And that is true... But right now I am very aware of my lack of vigour, of my wobbling jowls, of my lethargy. I am a tad ashamed to admit to this as I am also very aware of my general health and the very lucky position I am in. But this is my blog and if I feel like a fat old cow I am allowed to moan about it. Hopefully my next post will have me bouncing about with joy again...
I am not yet in my dotage, I am glad to say, but I don't like the way my body is changing. I could always run, ski, jump about with very little trouble. As the years go on I am getting creaky. My throat is sagging, my tummy is turning into a bit of a barrel and I can't stop it. I eat healthily, try to keep my mind active and attempt to exercise. The thing is, though, that it gets harder and harder. For the first time ever I begin to understand why really old people just give up and let it all sag, why some older people sit and watch telly all day.
Maybe the grey cold of winter doesn't help... Its miserable. I don't feel warm or healthy. Perhaps when the summer months arrive I will be reinvigorated. I hope so.
Old age is something we don't really talk about ... like death. But when you start to realise that you are getting older... its just not nice. I don't like seeing my body getting flabby and heavy. I don't like getting unfit.
The obvious option is to say "Pull yourself out of it and get on with things. Go for a run. You're not old." And that is true... But right now I am very aware of my lack of vigour, of my wobbling jowls, of my lethargy. I am a tad ashamed to admit to this as I am also very aware of my general health and the very lucky position I am in. But this is my blog and if I feel like a fat old cow I am allowed to moan about it. Hopefully my next post will have me bouncing about with joy again...
