I have always been told I look young. Ok, it wasn’t so fun getting my ID checked at age 23 but still, I thought to myself, at some point this has to blow the other way. At some point, I’ll be happy that people think I’m younger than I look. And surely, I surmised, the inside matches the out – I eat (relatively) healthy, keep fit and am mentally just your average kind of person – everyone’s got issues, right? So I figured that even though I was heading for my mid-late 30s, everything was going to hold up at least for another little while.
And then things started going downhill.The grey hair started weaving in a few years ago. So I dyed the sh*t out of it. And then I started to come to terms with it, thinking, maybe I’ll age naturally and gracefully.
Then this year I was blessed with my very first filling. Naturally I blamed it on the lack of fluoride in Austrian water, not on my age.
But then it was my back.
I’ll bounce back in no time, I thought positively – I’m young. Well… that was 6 months ago. And though I am a lot bouncier, I’m not the roller-coaster-riding, all-day-hiking, half-marathon-running kind of person I’d planned on being.
And that’s when it hit me – my body is getting old.
And I don’t understand. Because somewhere deep inside me is a 19-year-old screaming: Go out dancing! Go out drinking! Come on! You love it!
And it’s true, I do. But I can’t do it anymore. I have to face facts. The body is ageing. 10pm is a perfectly acceptable bedtime, even on the weekends. Waking up with puffy eyes and pillow marks is too much to bear.
But it’s not just me! It seems that everyone my age is getting older. Lasered cysts, organ removal, hip and back surgery… that’s right, it’s not just for the elderly. And I can’t think of a single person who doesn’t wear glasses.
And that includes me. Yes, the final insult, while battling through the back pain – finding out my eye sight is also ageing!
And I start to wonder? Have I passed the peak of my life? Is this it? Am I only going to get fatter, slower, more painful from here on in. There was a period a few years back when I was training 5-6 days a week with a triathlon club – I was probably the fittest I have ever been. Those days are gone. I just don’t have the time anymore.
When my brother visited recently I got a care package from my mum – a three-pack of my favourite bonds undies – in a size bigger than previously. So even my mum thinks it’s about time my body started spreading.
I don’t like it, I don’t like it one bit – and I’m going to keep on fighting to be as fit and healthy for as long as I can. My grandmother recently passed away at the ripe old age of 93 – I only hope I inherited a good hunk of her genes!