Honestly, I don't obsess about age. If anything, I forget. Every once in a while, I make myself concentrate on how old I am right now and on what mature things people my age should be doing, and consider whether I'm doing those things. Then my stomach hurts so I drink a glass of wine.
Wanting to get in better shape again, I got a walk/run app. I need exercise structure, as much as I hate taking direction. My compromise is mild disobedience - varying my walking and running time a little so the app is not the boss of me.
After running a few times in one week, there was pain shooting through my left hip and my lower back was stiff. Limping around at work, I mentioned it to a colleague a couple years younger than I. She said that her hip started hurting when she was running. The pain continued to get worse so she went to the doctor who told her she's getting older and had a little arthritis in her hip. The solution: don't run.
My first reaction was to promise myself I was definitely running tonight. That unusual arthritis story clearly does not apply to me. I need to run more - not less. The pain will go away.
I haven't even fully explored running yet in this lifetime. I've always planned to make my girls run with me the way my parents used to make my brother and I run in the late 70s. In my mind, my daughters and I are wearing halter tops, dolphin shorts, and Nikes - with pom pom socks.
Is that really over?
I better go backwards for a few posts. Life is flying by and I haven't been writing for a bit.