Monday, July 19, 2010

Snap, Crackle, Pop

Getting old was one of the few things was afraid of in my youth (in addition to flamingos and dead bodies - but you will have to ask my sister about those). When I say old I mean O-L-D - as in your grandparents age - not the big 4-0 (which is right around the corner for me). 

I distinctly remember freaking out on my 25th birthday about how "old" I was. I somehow had the nerve to express this to my friend Janet (who happens - to this day - be one of my strongest supporters).  As rude as it was for me to whine about my "old age" to someone who was, in actuality, a few years older than me, it turned out to be a good thing because the conversation that followed changed my life. 

Janet said that she actually enjoyed her recent birthday's because she felt like she was in a really good place - happily married, two great kids, good job, etc. She didn't have the insecurities of being a teenager anymore - nor the struggles of trying to prove herself as a 20-something.  Though I doubt I ever told her this - that conversation meant the world to me - thanks Janet! 

On the other hand, that this whole "getting back into shape thing" has caused me to doubt my acceptance of my age quite a few times.  When did my body get so damn old?  

It seems like every few days I wake up with a new ache or pain.  My shin splints are ever present, but seem to rear up every time I even think about running more than a few miles.  My knees, which have been one of the few parts of my body I never injured as a young athlete, snap and crackle like a bowl full of Rice Krispies whether I'm squatting at the studio or just getting up from the dinner table (no "pops" yet, thank goodness!).  And my hip flexors have started what Laura and I call "hingeing"  - sticking painfully like the hinge on an old door!  

This is the price I pay for neglecting my body for so many years. My faith (which I don't talk a lot about here, but is something I rely heavily on) is telling me to trust and I'll get through it (with a little help from Ibuprofen, Naproxen, and a martini or two!).  But sometimes I just want to shout "I get it, God, now will you give me a break?!" 


  1. Wish I was still in the place. I'm still happily married and the two kids are still great, but the old insecurities have crept back in.

    Like, when I get my master's what can I do with it? Can I really be successful anywhere but DU?

    I used to be in better shape. Why can't I get myself to the gym as religiously as I used to?

    I'm at the place where I don't necessarily feel the need to prove myself to other people. I just need to prove myself to me. I'm my own worst critic!


  2. I'd be lying if I said that those old insecurities don't sneak back in on me - they do - but I'm learning not to let myself get too swept up in it (gradually). I spent a good portion of my life proving myself to others - now I'm trying to work on doing exactly what you said - proving myself to ME! Promise me you won't be so hard on yourself - you are AMAZING regardless of where you work, how many times to get to the gym or whatever - and DO NOT forget it!