I’ve always come into things late. Both my babies were a day late. I started college at 33. I came upon Harry Potter in book 4. I climbed my first mountain at 43. I started running at 44. And last night I rode a mountain bike for the first time. Man, does my ass hurt!
There is something to be said for waiting. I truly think I appreciate everything I do a bit more than I would have at 20. College would have been a HUGE waste of money for me back then, I’m certain of that. As a late-comer to running and hiking, I’m happy with slower paces. I’m content with a slow run through the woods, pushing myself to beat my previous time, which was slow to start with. It’s all good. I stop long enough to soak up the morning sun for a moment or two before carrying on. I’m not too vain to walk if I need to. I enjoy the vistas just a little more. It’s all good.
They say if you learn something new your brain stays fresh and active. By brushing your teeth with your non-dominant hand, you can add just a little more life to those “little gray cells”. Just think of all the benefits of learning new sports at “my age”! Not only is my brain getting the longevity, so are my muscles. Adding years to my life all the way around. Yay me!
RANDOM JACK THOUGHTS….
As I walked up a steep piece of the trail yesterday morning, I couldn’t help think of my grandfather, Jack. If he’d had the equipment and technology (and medical care) that is available today, he would have been hiking late into his life. I don’t think he would have ever stopped. But plastic kneecaps, a bad hip and a pacemaker made that difficult. Think what he could have done with the right boots, the right pack, the scientific knowledge of hiking today! Cool thought as I trudged (happily) up my familiar trail. How lucky we are to be alive now!! If he could climb mountains, pack blankets and spend entire summers in the Whites with nothing more than thin boots and scratchy wool, who the hell am I to complain about anything?