I've come to realize that aging is like September. One minute you are basking in the glow of Summer, the next you are hugging the sweater around your shoulders. It's still lovely out, still warm, but something has changed...the climate is not the same, there is definitely a chill in the air.
This is not to say we don't love September. There are many, many wonderful things about September. It's a gentle time, kids are back in school, days are slow and after an activity filled Summer it's nice to take some time for you. Instead of sunbathing you take a picnic to the beach. That walk on the shore, now more empty and still, brings out it's emerging Fall face. The beach is longing for not just the pitter-patter of little feet and plastic toys, chicken salad sandwiches and umbrella's. It is sentimental for the richness of a peaceful moment, the stretching out of solid feet.
I get it. I know we don't go from puppy one minute to hag the next. It's truly wonderful to fit into yourself like an cozy sweater. When you understand why you do what you do, why you feel how you feel. The liberation, the joy. Got it.
What I don't get is the crack in the tea cup. That one hurts. Big time. What starts as a tiny hairline fracture blossoms into a full on break.
I know what you are thinking-- that I am talking about my boobs again. Wrong.
I am talking about my bones, my hips, shoulders, arches of my feet. I'm talking about going from running 40 miles a week to my knee starting to ache a bit to surprise! not being able to run at all. For six months. I'm talking about running a mile now and having it hurt. No injury here; my body is just talking to me.
As in, what the hell are you doing woman?? Don't you know I don't move that effortlessly, completely, heartily anymore?? Actually, no I don't. I have selective amnesia as to what my body can do. My brain thinks I can still rock climb like a twenty-five year old.
My body laughs at my brain. Silly, silly brain.
I think that it happens this way to humble us. To remind us that the endless Summer is not ours to keep. That's O.K. I've had too much time in the sun anyway.
I have just over a month left being 39. Holding up all right thank you very much. Except my boobs (you knew that was coming) and my saggy tushie. I can still rock a pair of jeans but my bikini days are numbered. I would really like to know when I went from accenting with lipstick to needing it to flush out the color in my cheeks. Oh Well, I hear the vampire look is in now anyway.
So I take my supplements and get lots of sleep. Drink red wine and laugh everyday. Say a prayer to my knees before I run and pinch my friend who says it only goes downhill from here.
All the wisdom I have gained is in my laugh lines. My boobs fed my kiddos and my tushie was never my best feature anyway. I wouldn't trade to be twenty again.
I'm looking forward to September.