The Thing About Youth Is That It Goes Away
Oh, to be youthful again. To live a life of innocence and discovery is like an elixir in my thoughts. Knowing that I will never drink from that cup ever again is melancholic.
Sixty-One is not old, though it can appear that way to an outside observer. There are days I look into the mirror and see an older man staring back at me. That man looks really old at times and I imagine what he might have looked like when he was younger, say in his twenties or thirties. I bet he was a handsome man, some would say he was cute. A strapping young man, fit and active. Looking at him in the mirror I ask, ‘how did he become so old?’
I’ve seen other’s my age and I have to admit that they look much, much older than me. I’m hanging in there, but at times it sure as hell doesn’t feel like it. For starters, I have trouble stretching to touch my toes, and that is when I am sitting on the floor. Not only am I stiff as a board, I have a belly. The rest of me is fine. I still have gorgeous legs defined by my glorious calves. The heads of my gastrocnemius’s are better developed than a weight lifter’s calves. I owe years of cycling to my gorgeous calves.
The rest of me can use some work and I should start lifting again, but it’s my belly that I need to reduce. I’m at that age where I have serious doubts about achieving my visions of grandeur. There is also the question of ‘Why?’, as in ‘why do I need to do this, because I don’t have the need to impress anyone anymore?’ One of the reasons the young folk work out in the gym is so that they can look good for mating. Aw, c’mon!! We all did that when we were young! Well, I admit that was just part of it. I exercised because I actually liked it back then. Now….? yeeeesh!
Now it hurts. Back in my youth I could work through the pain. Now, it hurts! I see women around my age lifting heavy weights and doing squats in their homemade gyms with the garage door open so everyone can see, grunting and looking impressive as hell. But, …they also gave birth, so the pain I feel when performing a simple bicep curl would feel like a spring mist to them, while I’m screaming inside, ‘The pain! The pain! Make it stop!!’ Yeah, the women of today have no problem with physical pain, or mental. Holy hell, let’s just hand the reigns over to them to control the world! I would have no problem with that.
Men, we need to put our ego’s aside and allow the female persuasion to commence their rightful duties. Besides, I have noticed that as men age they become more set in their ways, almost to the point of being either stubbornly foolish or, foolishly stubborn. All for what? I think it’s to hold on to some semblance of our youth. The thing is, …that’s gone. The fork is in our ass, it’s time to turn us over, because we are done.
That’s the ugly side of youth. It makes us feel invincible. Just like the lyrics from the Queen song, “Don’t stop me now! I’m having such a good time, I’m having a ball!!”
Then you reach your sixties. Something has changed. Oh, yeah, you can fight it. Go on, give it your best. I’ll just sit here and watch, not making any judgements, just watching. I’m hoping for you. I’m pra…, no, that doesn’t work. Instead, I will wait here for you with a cold bottle of water and some pretzels. You know, to replenish your electrolytes. But gosh, you sure do glow, …in an exhausting and sexy way. …oh yeah, about that…. I don’t know, maybe it’s just me but, I don’t feel as sexy as I was when I was in my youth. That drive is permanently in park. In fact, I think it has been towed away. Stimulate me through conversation.
Oh boy, a lot has changed. I still feel slightly youthful,… mentally. I still love math, though a little slower solving equations. That’s another thing. I no longer feel the need to rush. In my youth, I was always rushing somewhere, I also loved competition and reaching goals. HA! I’m so happy that I don’t care to do that anymore. I take my goddamn time now that I’m in my sixties. The only place I’m heading a little too fast now is the end of my life, and I can’t control that, really. Yes, I can eat healthier and exercise, but as I’ve probably mentioned in my earlier writings, ‘healthy people die too.’
I’m on cruise control now. I cycle just for the joy of cycling. I don’t like getting swooped by Magpies in the spring and have to choose alternate routes. Thinking of alternate routes, that kind of summarizes my life. From my youth, very early on, I made it my choice to travel along an alternate path. I’m still on that path today and am grateful for it, through all the tribulations, I have turned out well. But man, I just can’t help thinking how wonderful it would be to have one more day feeling like I did in my twenties. HA!
Funny, I do that ‘HA’ing thing a lot. It’s sort of me saying, ‘been there, done that.’ Well, it’s time for me to take my pills. You know, so I can live longer. In my youth, there were commercials telling us that in the future we will have pills to help us live longer. What they didn’t mention is that we would need them to control our blood pressure, heart conditions, diabetes…etc. It sounded glamorous at the time…., then reality hit. Damn you to hell reality!!
Well, dear reader, it’s a lovely spring day here in Brisbane. I might have to take advantage of it. I haven’t had a weekend off in yonks! ‘Yonks’ is a kiwism (New Zealanders) for ‘years’ or ‘a long time’. Time to take this youthful sixty year old body out for some exercise…., HA! ..Yeah right. I’m not foolish or stubborn, am I?
