Taking it for Granted

At 39, I see and feel myself growing a little bit older. A few more fine lines on my hands and face, a touch less energy. A few more tummy issues. A recognition that my parents are about to become grandparents of four. Fewer baby showers, fewer wedding showers. No desire to hit Bourbon Street on trips to New Orleans.

I saw this piece this morning about a woman who labored to complete a 10K. And part of me wanted to scoff at her overeach--she is out of shape and probably had no business trying to complete that distance. But upon further reflection, and realizing how she had lost nearly 200 pounds, I realize how far she had come. And the compassion of the officer who assisted her in the journey was stark and striking. How far she had come, and it didn't matter how long it had taken to arrive. True, she was at a 20 minute pace clip. But she had made it.

Running was something that came to me later in life, and I don't want to ever take it for granted. Maybe my days of 8 minute miles are past me, but I still could run a 10K in far less than an hour on a whim. Most days, anyway. And maybe my difficult 10K is akin to my ability/desire to try yoga headstands or crow or other poses that are simply impossible for me.

A little more compassion would serve us to do good and to be well. At 39, maybe I can recognize some limitations, but that should not let it stop me. It's the journey, right?

Thirty Nine

Has it been a month?

I don't know where this year has gone...well, yes I do. I've been in Louisiana, California, Arkansas (x2), Chicago, and Florida. And the travel will continue quite a bit going forward.

I'm not feeling 100%, either. I'm tired. Dealing with a cold/bronchitis. Dealing with some digestion issues; my body doesn't like vegetables right now. And I'm depressed by the ridiculous, unending cold weather, the imminent March snowfall, and the darkness and gloominess. I can't recall a three week stretch in DC as bad as this one. Light will shine next week, maybe.

But I'm at 39, and to borrow Kathy's phrase, celebrating what's sure to be the first of many 39th birthdays. I hope so, at least. You don't take it for granted. I feel a little slower, uneasier, lethargic. I feel my age for really and truly the first time. I don't feel "young." And I wonder if I ever do have a baby, how I will cope. My energy is truly lower.

Though schedule has something to do with that. I'd adjust. And that's what I truly want for this year. The beginning of my 40th year. Wow, can you believe that?

I also hope to write more often, because I miss it and it's too easy to move along on busy days like I've had. But it's something I've been doing, journaling, mostly on for 30  years.

So cheers to 39, and cheers to 40. And I hope this year brings....joy.