In 18 days I will be 365 days away from 40. The clock starts ticking and the countdown begins. Now 40 may be the new 30 but regardless, 40 means that my heart has been beating, my neurons firing and my lungs expanding and contracting for a hell of a long time now. It means that I only have a little over a year to get fit by 40. It means that it’s officially time to stop dicking around.
40 is important because on some level it feels like the halfway point for me. My line usually is….If I live to be 80 then doing ________ (insert shitty thing that I have to do for a few hours or days here) isn’t that big of a deal in the grand scheme of things. However, if I was only living to say, 41, my time would be pretty damn precious and I’d be picky about how I spent it.
I never talk about living to 100 or 90 but 80 seems to be the goal.
I don’t know much but I do know this: Being fit as you age is a hell of lot easier than being unfit and old. First off you don’t seem many morbidly obese 80-year-olds, do you? Of course not. They die before reaching 80.
What you do see are out of shape older folks in wheelchairs, with walkers, or home bound due their stiff joints, bad hips, or semi-paresis following their mild-moderate stroke. You also hear them wheezing from decades of smoking, rubbing their lower back due to never taking the time to strengthen their abs or see a chiropractor or losing limbs from their late in life onset of diabetes.
The good news is modern medicine has the technology to basically insure me a nice, long, lingering life. The bad news is, it can’t insure me any quality of life. That’s my job. So forty somehow feels like the time to take a stand and make some changes. Forty feels like the time to commit to specific daily routines and rituals. Forty feels like taking responsibility. Like giving a damn and understanding that some outcomes require good old fashioned hard work and dedication. Forty feels like being a grown up.
I’m going to blog about the process privately. Do really want to know if my
shit floats or not based on how much insoluble fiber I’m eating? Do you care about the circumference of my thighs and if I can finally, fully commit to a daily yoga practice? Probably not.
Honestly the main reason I’m keeping this process private is because for once I’d really like to push myself and work hard not because someone else is watching, but because I’m watching. I’d like to make a promise to myself and have enough integrity to actually honor it. The truth is, I’m super when it comes to being accountable to others but not so good at being accountable to me.
Perhaps the reason for my sudden and overwhelming need for fitness is more about being at a suitable standard (a fit mother) or joining together various parts of me to become whole (fitting together the pieces of a puzzle) while having adequate skills and qualities (being fit for battle). Maybe in the end it has nothing to do with being physically fit. Maybe that’s just the by-product of getting my shit together.
I’ll keep you posted.