Saturday morning or maybe early afternoon, clock says it is almost noon now and I am here…with you
We moved again and even if I wasn’t surrounded by boxes I would know that I had by the aches and pains that haven’t just come for a short visit.
Hired movers because I knew this wasn’t the time to prove I can lift as much as I did in my twenties. Genetics, god or whatever you believe in has given me ample natural strength. Doesn’t require much for me to throw the iron or boxes around, but it never has.
What has happened is that the recovery time that once wasn’t needed is more important than ever. Used to be I could go all day and all night and still be good the next day because a couple of hours of shut eye was all I needed.
But those days are mostly gone.
Mostly gone because I still find those days and moments where I feel exactly as I used to and the body responds. But those moments are slipping away and they don’t occur as often as they used to.
Is Age Just A State Of Mind?
If you know me well you know I am 240 pounds of 5 year-old and that I never will completely concede that time has done away with my ability to do as I wish.
You know that I will tell you that force of will and belief is often enough to make the difference but you also know that I have lost a half step and that I can’t always do as I once did.
The Uncle Drew video below always makes me smile. Some of it is because I love playing pick up ball and I remember being the young guy who didn’t believe an old guy could take advantage of him.
Well, several old men did and I learned an awful lot from them not that I apply not just to the game but to life.
They taught me the importance of fundamentals and of knowing the rules well enough to apply them in conventional and unconventional ways.
I learned the value of picking my spots and how going full speed all day every day doesn’t mean you are accomplishing more. Sometimes that is just activity without any sort of measurable positive outcome.
Out on the court I like fooling the younger guys into thinking I can’t move that well. There is always someone who is surprised that I can still run.
Running is where I sometimes notice age. I have always had decent foot speed, might not have been the fastest guy on the court but I was close.
But what is different now is I can’t just walk on the court and turn it on. I need to warm up, until I get the first sweat I feel like a sleastack.
Some days when I get loose it feels like I can do it all as well as I ever did it.
I love those days because it feels like the combination of youth and wisdom and then there are days where it doesn’t matter what I do because my body refuses to respond.
If you readÂ No One Wants To Read A Dad BlogÂ you know part of my story. The hardest part of moving is it has dredged up some old memories and anger that I thought was gone has come to visit.
Part of me wants to scream at how unfair this is. I shouldn’t be unpacking now in a place I am renting. I should be in my own house, the one I bled to save.
But the thing is I always knew that house wasn’t going to be the last place I lived. It was a great starter house, but it needed some more to make it a place to stay longer.
We probably wouldn’t have put any more money into it. We probably would have moved but the distinction is it should have been a choice as to when.
Instead it was made in a more defiant manner. I wasn’t going to wait to see if the bank would say yes or not to my request so I took control of the situation and made a decision.
How You Age Is A Choice
I guess if you look at it all you can say how you age is a choice. You have the ability to take control and try to do it on your terms or Â you just let it happen and see how it goes.
And right now how it goes for me is lugging more boxes up and down some stairs. Time to get back to it.
See you all later on, two ibuprofen and time in the hot tub later.