Today, my body is telling me that I have only one more week as a 46 year old, and turning 47 next Tuesday brings me even closer to the big 5-0.
How the heck did I get to be so old? And when did walking down all the stairs in this split level house we bought become so painful?
Oh, wait. I have an answer to that question. The second question, that is. My thighs started protesting stairs on Monday morning after an usually athletic weekend.
On Saturday, we went on our annual skiing trip. I’m not much of a skiier, so the girls and I took a lesson together. We had a great instructor this year! She went through the basics with us, and then we went up the ski lift to practice our turns. The girls both have great balance! Our instructor is also a guide for blind skiers, and we saw her later with a bright orange vest, guiding a blind skier to the ski lift. Isn’t that a neat program?
I think I embarrassed my daughter when I called out some teens that were trying to cut in line for the ski lift. I don’t care. I’m old. And they were wrong.
Sunday morning I woke up with sore ankles, mostly from where the rented ski boots rubbed against my shins. Other than that, I felt pretty good. That afternoon, the entire family was invited to a Girl Scout outing at the Sweatshop. You can imagine what we did while we were there! A very enthusiastic (young) man led us in exercising for a whole hour. He was amazing! The kids had a blast, and the parents had fun, too! The dance-off between the kids and parents was especially fun. The kids danced to Beyonce and the adults danced the Village People–YMCA, of course!
Working out at the gym using the treadmill and elliptical, however, is much different than bouncing around like Tigger on steroids for an hour. For the most part, I was able to keep up with all the exercising due to my gym visits, but then the next day my thighs complained bitterly. (And are still complaining, I might add!) Sometimes I have to remind myself that yes, I am older than many of the other moms. But I’ve also gone through a lot to get here, and I’m proud to be a 46-almost-47-year-old-mom.
Let’s see if I still feel the same way when I turn 50!