Were you born before the hills were made? (Job 15: 7 NLT)
Recently, I crossed a milestone. At least, that’s what people tell me. I have entered a decade that few admit to readily (particularly the ladies). I’m all of half a century old! Younger people bestow greater respect and defer to me much more readily now … Either they think I’m an overflowing fount of wisdom, or else, they think I’m cranky on account of my great age. I haven’t figured that one out yet.
I don’t know what the fuss is about growing older. I feel like me still. If anything, I’m healthier than I have ever been. If I have physical problems, they aren’t age-related. I do seem to know a few more things these days, and I’m not so hung up on half the things that used to really bug me a mere ten years or so ago … Generally, I feel quite OK indeed, if OKness is the measure of one’s wellness of soul and being. When I table the list of physical symptoms of growing old out there, I can gladly say I don’t suffer from many of them. Joint pains (nope), alopecia (nope), weight (nope), high cholesterol (nope), high bp (nope), adult diabetes (nope). I do have a greying crown of glory … though the Bible consoles me that truly that is wisdom multiplying … and I needed multifocals from a long time ago … but these days, that’s understandable too, considering the kind of work I do. All in all, it’s not so bad, this growing old bit. In any case, in these days of relative longevity, 50 really does pass as 30. I even bought a mug to convince myself of this …
I put my success down to a physically disciplined way of life, really, which is to say, I have a PT who makes sure I follow a disciplined regimen of exercise that she dishes out with little restraint week after painful week. I owe it all to her. Her one ambition is to make me fit, even if it kills me! PT, you might have guessed, stands for Personal Torturer … though oftentimes, it is disguised (unsuccessfully) as Personal Trainer. Worse yet, I have a PT who really believes in the value of Exercise! What is the body for but to be worked at, used and pushed to its limits? Any kind of movement and exertion is preferable to no movement or exertion, unless the no movement refers to holding a pose for 12 counts … repeated many times for many sets …
Of course, being sadistic, I enjoy my exercise! In theory at least, I have always believed in Exercise too … just that it was usually academic until a few years ago when I was dragged off my couch. I ended my days as a couch potato on an abrupt note, and I have never looked back since.
When I was younger, I was an avid collector of exercise CDs and DVDs. But any attempt on my part to put theory into practice (or my money where my mouth was) usually ended within the first 5 minutes when I realised that the warm-up stretches were akin to performing serious Olympic standard gymnastic moves! I mean, seriously …
Well, all that was early discouragement that sent me to look for refuge on my couch (armed with my Pringles and a good book). When I began to exercise in earnest, though, I started off with walking at Bukit Kiara. It is not for nothing that Jesus said, “Narrow is the path that leads to life.” I might add, “narrow and steep …” The first few times were quite similar to near-death experiences for me, especially since my walking companion was a particularly un-sympathetic sort! And the monkeys … Let’s just say the wildlife made exercise more interesting than it would normally be. Of course, the Bukit Kiara walk is child’s play by now. I mean, you must be really unfit not to manage it!
From then onwards, it was hitting the gym and resistance training, which is still one of the best things I have ever pushed myself to do! Like I said, I do enjoy my workouts! It’s true too about the adrenalin pumping. Exercise makes you feel good. I’m surprised and happy too that at 50, I can still run up and down the stairs fairly well, I still walk fairly fast, I’m still mobile and my joints seem to be holding up well enough! To be honest, I’m looking forward to this particular decade. I doubt that I’m done with life yet, or that life is done with me. There are still a couple of things I want to do, stuff I haven’t been able to get round to so far.
And really, even if the new 50 isn’t exactly 30, who cares? It’s still a great age to be!
