on seeing my future
disclaimer: I occasionally find situations humorous, but in this case, I honestly don't know how to feel about this, so I figured I'd just write it out and see where it goes.
He looked up at me, pale and sweaty, and said something along the lines of, "I'm so old!". I fidgeted, unhappily, and didn't know what to say.
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It started earlier last week, when I hesitantly invited X to go out "hiking" with me. I say hiking, but what I really mean is "well, a few weeks have gone by and I feel as though I haven't done any exercise, so I should at least make it to the top of the closest 'mountain'." The conversation went something like:
me: I don't know if you like hiking - you haven't mentioned it much except for the one time you got lost on holiday and walked 20 miles.
He assured me he did go hiking although he wouldn't go alone and hardly had anyone to go with. I carefully gave him all the stats on our hike (distance and elevation, meeting place) and we were all set.
We were all set until he showed up with jeans and sneakers and carrying even less than I carried. I was ill prepared because I'd forgotten my pack, and decided to hike without it. I have hiked the same trail for years, knew it would be an hour up, 45 minutes down, and the pack was a 40 minute drive away and I decided just to go "minimalist". With a bottle of water. Which he didn't have. Is this some sort of a man thing? "Cocky", I mean. I eyed him dubiously and silently shrugged to myself.
We started up the trail, and I do mean up. He talking nineteen to the dozen, me breathing carefully and occasionally answering. Within 15 minutes he was having difficulty. We stopped and I shared my water bottle with him. After another 15 minutes of slow and careful hiking, we admitted defeat, sat for a while, and headed back to the car.
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A part of me sees my future, potentially even my present. A present filled with an increasing number of outcomes that lead to my feeling as though my encroaching age has led me to fail at doing something that my younger self would find easy.
I refrained from asking X if it was a wake-up call, and if so, what he'd do about it. Maybe it was, maybe it wasn't. Maybe he would just cross it off his list of things to do. "Hiking? No thanks. I don't do hiking." He talked about having more sympathy for his dad, who had had to get heart surgery and something implanted. I wondered if I would ever be sympathetic if someone couldn't do something I wanted to, and then they blamed it on age.
I wondered what I would do if I suddenly couldn't do something because I was old. Probably think of cousin Bob, almost twice my age, and hiking 16 miles during the weekend with the rest of his old-fogey cronies, and put on my big-girl pants, and grimly try and keep up with the rest of my indefatigable young-at-heart friends.
Most of all, I wondered if age was to blame, HOW it was to blame. Where am I going to have to fight it? Is it in the gradual deterioration of the body? Is it in the habits we don't even notice anymore, habits that lead us to doing things that hurt our chances of doing what we want? Is it in the supreme confidence of a spirit that has managed to stay alive for many decades, enough that it no longer seeks to explore and learn about the world?
What do I have to guard against? Maybe it wasn't a wake-up call for him, but it sure is one for me.
He looked up at me, pale and sweaty, and said something along the lines of, "I'm so old!". I fidgeted, unhappily, and didn't know what to say.
====================================
It started earlier last week, when I hesitantly invited X to go out "hiking" with me. I say hiking, but what I really mean is "well, a few weeks have gone by and I feel as though I haven't done any exercise, so I should at least make it to the top of the closest 'mountain'." The conversation went something like:
me: I don't know if you like hiking - you haven't mentioned it much except for the one time you got lost on holiday and walked 20 miles.
He assured me he did go hiking although he wouldn't go alone and hardly had anyone to go with. I carefully gave him all the stats on our hike (distance and elevation, meeting place) and we were all set.
We were all set until he showed up with jeans and sneakers and carrying even less than I carried. I was ill prepared because I'd forgotten my pack, and decided to hike without it. I have hiked the same trail for years, knew it would be an hour up, 45 minutes down, and the pack was a 40 minute drive away and I decided just to go "minimalist". With a bottle of water. Which he didn't have. Is this some sort of a man thing? "Cocky", I mean. I eyed him dubiously and silently shrugged to myself.
We started up the trail, and I do mean up. He talking nineteen to the dozen, me breathing carefully and occasionally answering. Within 15 minutes he was having difficulty. We stopped and I shared my water bottle with him. After another 15 minutes of slow and careful hiking, we admitted defeat, sat for a while, and headed back to the car.
====================================
A part of me sees my future, potentially even my present. A present filled with an increasing number of outcomes that lead to my feeling as though my encroaching age has led me to fail at doing something that my younger self would find easy.
I refrained from asking X if it was a wake-up call, and if so, what he'd do about it. Maybe it was, maybe it wasn't. Maybe he would just cross it off his list of things to do. "Hiking? No thanks. I don't do hiking." He talked about having more sympathy for his dad, who had had to get heart surgery and something implanted. I wondered if I would ever be sympathetic if someone couldn't do something I wanted to, and then they blamed it on age.
I wondered what I would do if I suddenly couldn't do something because I was old. Probably think of cousin Bob, almost twice my age, and hiking 16 miles during the weekend with the rest of his old-fogey cronies, and put on my big-girl pants, and grimly try and keep up with the rest of my indefatigable young-at-heart friends.
Most of all, I wondered if age was to blame, HOW it was to blame. Where am I going to have to fight it? Is it in the gradual deterioration of the body? Is it in the habits we don't even notice anymore, habits that lead us to doing things that hurt our chances of doing what we want? Is it in the supreme confidence of a spirit that has managed to stay alive for many decades, enough that it no longer seeks to explore and learn about the world?
What do I have to guard against? Maybe it wasn't a wake-up call for him, but it sure is one for me.