I so hate to say this out loud but I think it needs to be said. As a step to acceptance. Mine.
I think I’m getting old.
Yeah I know. Everybody gets old. But I think I’M GETTING OLD. Not only have I never been 46 before, but I’ve never – EVER – resented my time at the gym. Until today.
The conversation that went on in my head while at the gym this morning went something like this . . .
Ohhhh not another set . . .
I’m tired . . . How can that be . . . It’s 8 o’clock in the morning . . .
What if I skip abs today . . .
I mean, seriously. Will it really make a difference in my life if I don’t exercise that little muscle in the middle of my back . . .
My knee hurts.
What is wrong with that girl . . .
Do we really need to see cleavage to that magnitude . . . like two overstuffed cushions pushed together . . .
I wish she’d cover up. What is she? Like 12?
Maybe I’m just jealous . . .
NO. I am not jealous. Her ankles are the size of tree trunks. MATURE tree trunks . . .
Why do I feel like the oldest person here . . .
Oh. I AM the oldest person here . . .
Where are all the people my age . . .
I know. They’re probably doing something FUN. Like sleeping . . .
And on, and on, and fricken on it went.
Wanting to get the hell out of there? 100%
I keep thinking about my mother that time when we were sitting in front of her fireplace having happy hour and she blurted out, “If I was 40, I’d be worried that I’m an alcoholic. But I’m 60.” And then she raised her glass of wine to cheer her own acceptance and took a big sip. Self-congratulatory style.
So is this what happens? We reach a “certain age” and suddenly run out of energy, losing the fight of our own integrity and just . . . slump into life?
Now that was uplifting.