The right perspective on aging is that it is a blessing, right? Aging means you’re still alive, still here—but man, it’s a tough pill to swallow.
In your 30s, things start changing. You’re more confident, which is great. It’s liberating to not really care what someone else thinks. You have a better idea of who you are and what you want. And until around 31 or so, you can still get away with a lot of the stuff you were doing in your 20s—a little recklessness, a little laziness, a few too many drinks, whatever.
Then all of a sudden you wake up, and there are LINES in your face. Your hair is…well, thank God for hair dye. You seem to be eating less and weighing more. Two martinis and you’re not buzzed, you’re in bed. Alone. Then you wake up and your back or neck is tweaked, from sleeping. WTF?
I’ve been having all these lovely little wake-up calls for the past few years. Being Vain-with-a-capital-V, I take a good long look at myself last year and think, no, this just won’t do. So to my regular regimen of sunscreen, Retin-A, and constant dieting, I add Creme de la Mer, yoga, weight training, and serious cardio. And although I feel better and think I look better (well, not this week since I’ve been on a month-long sugar binge) I’ve got aching elbows and knees! Crap!
The doc confirmed it yesterday: I’ve got Runner’s Knee (Patellofemoral Pain Syndrome) in both knees! Great. I finally get myself into a regular exercise regimen, and my knees scream at me to stop. I’ve never had a knee problem before in my life. So now, on top of having added five extra pounds out of sheer gluttony, I have to not only lose those, but lose them while not running, not doing any cardio with an incline, not doing any lunges or squats, not doing any exercise that REQUIRES MY KNEES TO BE BENT! I can’t bear the thought of no yoga for a month and a half. That’s crazy. And impossible, since I have my second yoga teacher training module coming up at the end of April. I’ve already resigned myself to yoga only twice a week, and with modifications in my practice. I just can’t fathom total cessation of everything but upper body weight training. I’ll die. I’ll die fat!
I know there are people with serious physical limitations and pain. But it just seems so unfair that for the first time in a decade, I do something really good for me, only to find out it’s bad for me. It just ain’t right, I tell you! I think I hear a violin…