I have reached a point in my life where I don’t keep track of my own age. Several people asked what my year would be in 2016. Several times I subtracted in my head. 30 was about it for birthdays and me until 40 comes. 34 is not very old at all.
However, I was brought low this week. Pendalouan’s Alumni Campfire found me the butt of several “old man” jokes, to which I said “ha-ha.” Then, during a robust version of “Ronald McDonald,” I strained my calf muscle. This put me out of commission for a few days – I could barely walk on Monday. I walk again, now, but I still am not at “top speed.”
Which is fairly discouraging. I’ve been doing Couch to 5k for several weeks and had finally reached week 5 – the week things get Real. Running is out of the question for at least another week, so I’ll be starting over. Encouraging people surround me. Which is nice.
I have spent the past year going through a lot of stuff. Nothing too bad, but frustrating, shouldn’t-be-happening events bombarded me at work, and our family kept getting ill. Well, the end of the school year arrived and brought some needed rest – but now we are scrambling to help a friend of the family.
It is as they say: things will never be perfect. There’s never a “right moment.”
Anyway, the same troubling school year brought me closer to several people filling me with support and camaraderie. I would have gladly sprained both calves to keep the reunions and events of Sunday. The upside of sick children is always cuddling, despite their average temperature jumping over the surface of the sun’s. And I’ll have my wife in sickness and in health.
33/34 was not the greatest year of my life, but it wasn’t anywhere near the worst. I spent much of one year of my life unable to use a toilet, getting stabbed by needles at regular intervals, and on an all-liquid diet! (the worst part of that was I don’t even remember it!)
There’s a lot more living to get to, anyhow. Birthdays are still pretty fun, so I’ll go ahead and keep having them.