“Hope I die before I get old.”The Who wasn’t talking about my generation, but I remember that the first time I heard that line I adopted it as my creed.Then, I had to decide what “old” meant.I never really thought it meant an age – not 30 or 50 or 100. No, old was a mind set or way of being.Old would be when I stopped moving forward.Then, I decided never to be old.
Now, I’m, er, less young.I’m not old and like to think I don’t even look my age.Yet, I’m getting old enough to realize how easy it is to be old and how difficult it is not to be.It just takes a lot more time and effort than it used to.Take my hair, for example.I was proud of the handful of gray hairs when they showed up.I had earned them and I like to think I’m not high maintenance.I didn’t need to color my hair.Then more gray hairs showed up.Is it vanity to dye your hair?Should I look older than I need to look?I still haven’t fully resolved those issues, but I dyed my hair.Add that to my list of things to do every few weeks.The maintenance becomes more important.More tweezing of the eyebrows and moisturizer, everything requires more time and tending.
Working out is my drug of choice.I have always worked out.If I missed a few weeks in the past, it never showed in the mirror.Now, if I miss a day or two, I can tell.In the gym I can still do everything I did 15 years ago, but it is harder to work up the desire and energy.Sore muscles take a little longer to get back to normal.It would be so easy to just say that I don’t have time.I have a husband and a child and job.That translates into there is never enough time.Then there is diet.I don’t diet, but I do watch what I eat a lot more closely.I notice that it effects me a little more than it did the year before.It isn’t just calorie and fat counting.It is did I get enough vitamin C and enough fiber.
Sure, the focus changes.My priorities change.I’m not trying for the fountain of youth here.I am not trying to recapture my glory days or hold on to the past.I am not dressing in the current trends.I’m not the current hip word – a “cougar”.I know my responsibilities.My husband and I don’t go out dancing until 3 AM any more.We don’t party all weekend long and our margarita consumption is moderated.We have a kid.We are uber responsible because of the kid.We also have plans and goals that we work towards and we plan for retirement.That doesn’t mean we stay at home and do nothing all of the time – we are just less nonchalant about it.We have to plan it and have a sitter and a designated driver.When the kid goes off to college, I will break out the bong and throw a kegger.Metaphorically speaking, of course.
Growing up a little, doesn’t mean growing old.It is more about giving up and giving in.It is saying “I’m too old” to start that now.I’m too old to change.I’m too old to workout.I’m too old to pick that up.I’m too old to learn new things.Growing old is being satisfied that you have gone as far as you can go, you have done all you can do.Growing old is saying I can just sit back and enjoy it all now.
It sounds so selfish, the desire to never be old, if for no other reason than it does take more time.But, if I become old by stopping, what would I have to offer then?If I stop learning, if I stop thinking and progressing, what is the point?To sit back on the sidelines and watch the world pass me by seems to be an awful waste of time.So, I keep going when it hurts.I keep bending down when my back doesn’t really want to.I keep typing when the carpal tunnel is bothering me.I keep running because the alternative seems to be too terrible.
Who said you had to get old?
Tags: Growing up, Old, The Who, Tired, Young, Youth
“Hope I die before I get old.” The Who wasn’t talking about my generation, but I remember that the first time I heard that line I adopted it as my creed. Then, I had to decide what “old” meant. I never really thought it meant an age – not 30 or 50 or 100. No, old was a mind set or way of being. Old would be when I stopped moving forward. Then, I decided never to be old.
Now, I’m, er, less young. I’m not old and like to think I don’t even look my age. Yet, I’m getting old enough to realize how easy it is to be old and how difficult it is not to be. It just takes a lot more time and effort than it used to. Take my hair, for example. I was proud of the handful of gray hairs when they showed up. I had earned them and I like to think I’m not high maintenance. I didn’t need to color my hair. Then more gray hairs showed up. Is it vanity to dye your hair? Should I look older than I need to look? I still haven’t fully resolved those issues, but I dyed my hair. Add that to my list of things to do every few weeks. The maintenance becomes more important. More tweezing of the eyebrows and moisturizer, everything requires more time and tending.
Working out is my drug of choice. I have always worked out. If I missed a few weeks in the past, it never showed in the mirror. Now, if I miss a day or two, I can tell. In the gym I can still do everything I did 15 years ago, but it is harder to work up the desire and energy. Sore muscles take a little longer to get back to normal. It would be so easy to just say that I don’t have time. I have a husband and a child and job. That translates into there is never enough time. Then there is diet. I don’t diet, but I do watch what I eat a lot more closely. I notice that it effects me a little more than it did the year before. It isn’t just calorie and fat counting. It is did I get enough vitamin C and enough fiber.
Sure, the focus changes. My priorities change. I’m not trying for the fountain of youth here. I am not trying to recapture my glory days or hold on to the past. I am not dressing in the current trends. I’m not the current hip word – a “cougar”. I know my responsibilities. My husband and I don’t go out dancing until 3 AM any more. We don’t party all weekend long and our margarita consumption is moderated. We have a kid. We are uber responsible because of the kid. We also have plans and goals that we work towards and we plan for retirement. That doesn’t mean we stay at home and do nothing all of the time – we are just less nonchalant about it. We have to plan it and have a sitter and a designated driver. When the kid goes off to college, I will break out the bong and throw a kegger. Metaphorically speaking, of course.
Growing up a little, doesn’t mean growing old. It is more about giving up and giving in. It is saying “I’m too old” to start that now. I’m too old to change. I’m too old to workout. I’m too old to pick that up. I’m too old to learn new things. Growing old is being satisfied that you have gone as far as you can go, you have done all you can do. Growing old is saying I can just sit back and enjoy it all now.
It sounds so selfish, the desire to never be old, if for no other reason than it does take more time. But, if I become old by stopping, what would I have to offer then? If I stop learning, if I stop thinking and progressing, what is the point? To sit back on the sidelines and watch the world pass me by seems to be an awful waste of time. So, I keep going when it hurts. I keep bending down when my back doesn’t really want to. I keep typing when the carpal tunnel is bothering me. I keep running because the alternative seems to be too terrible.