Find a way to celebrate more often.
Yes, sometimes life can be dull. Yes, it can be dreary. Periodically, it is even painful.
However, that’s probably not the majority of time.
Turning Sixty
This September 28, I will turn 60 years old.
Can I be frank about that? (Of course I can, it’s my column.) Sixty is freaking me out. Don’t get worried; I’m talking simmer, not boil; but the heat is on and I feel it.
Part of the reason that my reaction has taken me by surprise is that I faced 40 pretty well. I felt respected. I had just shed 70 pounds and had recently met my now-wife. Things were flowing along quite swimmingly way back then, thank you very much. When 50 came knocking, it set me back on my heels for, oh, about five minutes, but I rebounded well and quickly moved on.
Sixty however? Whoa-doggie! That’s a notion I’m having trouble wrapping my mind around. (Thank God I don’t have to wrap my body around it ‘coz it just ain’t that flexible anymore.)
I mean, six decades on planet Earth just seems, so, well – how do I phrase this diplomatically? Okay, forget subtlety, I’ll just lay it out there: Sixty seems “old.”
I apologize and no disrespect is intended if 60 is in your rear view mirror, and you’re now scornfully shaking your head (most likely hearing those cracking sounds in your neck) muttering, “Really Scott, sixty? Get over it!”
You’re right; sixty happens.
However, in my defense, it’s the oldest I’ve ever been and I am attempting to come to grips with it in a mature fashion; but it doesn’t help that Miriam-Webster’s medical dictionary defines “middle aged” as “the period of life from about 40 to about 60 years of age.” Yikes! I mean, what about all that “60 is the new 40” stuff? Moreover, by the very nature of the fact that I consider 40 to be “young;” doesn’t that validate my whole I-feel-old argument in the first place?
One of these days
One of these days, I’m going to get back on track with my diet.
Really. I’ll burst out of bed inspired, invigorated, and enthused. I’ll clear the kitchen, throw out the junk food, pull out my motivational books, and start weighing, measuring, and monitoring anything that crosses my lips. No crumb of cuisine will be too trivial to escape my scrutiny. Yep, that’s the way you lose weight you know. One of these days, boy am I going to get my eating act together! I’m just so busy right now.
Someday soon I’ve got to start exercising. I could wake up earlier, strap on some tunes, and stroll around the block. It’s just so warm in bed, and I’ve been waiting for the rain to stop; my raincoat is so old, I’d look silly walking around town in it. I’m looking forward to a patch of blue sky so I can get back out there.
Just as soon as I can get around to it, I need to start a journal. I’ve been organizing my thoughts — even thinking about jotting down a few notes. I considered using a yellow-lined pad, but I really want to keep my thoughts and feelings for years. Recording something so important on any old bland notebook would be tacky, so I’m toying with buying a deluxe, leather-bound journal — maybe even an expensive pen. When I can put away a few dollars, I’m so there.
In a little while, I think I’ll even go again to my meetings. It’s just, well, you know how it is: holidays, travel, celebrations… who can control themselves with goodies everywhere? A slip-up here, some sloppiness there — boom — eight pounds! I almost went back last week, except it’s so embarrassing to keep putting on the same pounds — so I’ll knock them off first, and then head back. In a few weeks, it’ll be a better time anyway.
One of these days real soon, I’ll get it all together. I’ve been planning it a long time; I just want to make sure I do it right, no mess-ups allowed. So I’m waiting until life settles down before I get started. Let me tell you though, when the time is perfect, there’s no stopping me.
I can feel it coming, one of these days, real soon, right about the corner…