Hello Thursday! Meet my blog group, comprised of a fantastic group of ladies who will dazzle you with insight on various topics. After reading my post, check out their blogs as well. Just click on:
Froggie (Tracey): One frog’s distinct voice on the world around her.
Merry Land Girl (Melissa): Tales of a suburban mom who likes to talk about pop culture, books, Judaism, family, friendship and anything else that comes to mind.
Darwin Shrugged (Denise): Civilized Observations in an Uncivilized World
I was inspired by someone close to me, when I conjured up this week’s blog post topic, Midlife Crisis. This person is going through what I’d call a mini midlife crisis. Suddenly, they are very aware of their own mortality.
It’s standard protocol when you’re nearing or are turning 40. Birthdays often become bookmarked with “over the hill” Hallmark cards and balloons. You start to receive junk mail from AARP (I recently did, and I’m turning 37 this year).
I have serious issues with “the midlife crisis”. It has nothing to do with my own lack of mortality. I know it’s there, I know I’m not immortal. And that’s where the problem lies for me. None of us know when our time is up on Earth. Not to be a Debbie Downer, but I could die today. Or tomorrow. Or next week or next month, or even next year. Not that I want to. I plan on living until I can’t stand living anymore; I want to be that old. It’s just, no one can say where anyone’s midlife ends or where it begins.
We’re also living a lot longer. We’re living well beyond 80 years of age. I often hear that 40 is the new 30. I’ve met plenty of people who are in their 90’s and are still kickin’ it. I’ve blogged about my dad and how he’s still kickin’ it. He’s 58 and competes in 100-mile bike rides. Teaches a spin class. His healthy lifestyle began in his late 30’s. A late bloomer. He started caring more about his health and didn’t want his age to dictate how he’d live his life.
Exercise and eating healthy is beneficial for everyone, not just the young whippersnappers. Just because we’ve entered into another age bracket, doesn’t mean our life is over. I guess watching my dad take his own health by the reigns and do something with it, has been a huge inspiration on how I see the world around me. There’s no time or reason to dwell on my age. Age really is just a number.
I’m no spring chicken anymore. I feel differently than I did when I was 20, and that’s okay. In all honesty, I don’t want to go back. It’s not about maintaining rock-hard abs and being the sexiest biotch in the room, not anymore. I’ve become a lot more confident and secure in the skin I’m in, even when I notice new wrinkles and strange jiggly bits that weren’t there before. I feel healthier at my age now than I ever did at 20.
I want to enjoy my life. Live every day as it comes. I don’t know where my midlife begins, and I’m fine with that. I’ve got too much livin’ to do now, anyway.