Even though I’m headed toward 52 years and am not at my ‘ideal weight’, it feels pretty good to wake up on a Sunday morning, after a 15 mile bike ride on Friday and a 5 mile hike on Saturday, and not feel sore, swollen or exhausted.
Sometimes, I forget to be impressed with my physicality rather than be on the look out for the lack of perfection. I am always quick to berate myself for that donut or that extra piece of pizza, yet don’t often pat myself on the back for the amount of physical exercise I get. I make it a priority, much to the detriment of my money making ability, but I have a hierarchy! After years of putting everyone first, (which I think is quite right when you have children), it feels good to make taking care of myself my true job.
Yes, at times I feel guilty, but for the most part I just do it and as I was hiking up the rocky path yesterday I thought it’s about time I acknowledge how good it feels to feel powerful and strong and in my fifties. I actually feel better than my twenties and there is less emotional nonsense going on too. My hope is that even at 102, I’ll still be going.