Chapter 1: The Reality of Aging

Today marked the final session of my Yoga for Bone Health class, but unfortunately, I was not present. Instead, I found myself at home, nursing a cold while sipping on tea.

I can only point the finger at myself for this predicament. Last week, I may have overexerted myself, which left me vulnerable to the latest bug making its rounds. This reflects the unfortunate tale of a 66-year-old woman who believes she can keep up with her 45-year-old self.

Just last Thursday, I achieved my personal best in a cycling class at the Y and then went for a four-mile walk with a friend. The following morning, I left home at 7:30 AM, walked a mile and a half to meet another friend for coffee, and then strolled to my yoga class for an hour and a half session. After that, I walked a mile back home.

However, by Saturday, I woke up with a sore throat, which quickly escalated into a stuffy nose and a cough. For the past five days, I've had to forgo cycling classes, yoga, and my walks. Perhaps it's time for me to accept that I am not as youthful as I once believed.

Research indicates that adults over 40 tend to perceive themselves as roughly 20% younger than their actual age. The exact reasons for this discrepancy remain unclear, but it's a common experience for those of us who are aging: the age we feel often doesn’t align with the age we see in the mirror.

This phenomenon can be a source of optimism; feeling youthful can encourage a vibrant life. Conversely, it can also lead to denial, ultimately culminating in a harsh reality check, as the signs of aging become impossible to ignore. My body is constantly reminding me of the truth — I am older than I feel.

When I do fall ill, it hits me hard. I rarely get sick, but when I do, it knocks me out completely. In my younger days, I would push through various ailments or at least work from home. These days, I find myself resigned to the couch, curled up with my cat, a book, and some tea for several days. I’ve shifted from relentless activity to a more yielding approach.

Additionally, my hearing has declined, and I’ve come to realize how closely it’s tied to my vision. In the past, with perfect vision and sharp hearing, I experienced the world vividly. Now, I rely on my glasses constantly, except when I’m asleep.

Another realization? I’m starting to resemble my cat. They say that pet owners often mirror their animals, but looking like my cat signifies a new level of stillness and relaxation in my life. I like to think of it as a Zen-like state, reflective of the wisdom that my 13-year-old cat seems to possess as she observes me from her relaxed pose.

My muscles now seem to favor slow-twitch fibers. In my earlier years, I enjoyed jogging and trained both my slow and fast-twitch muscles. Although I was never a sprinter, I could manage a 10-minute mile during a 5K. I continued to run even when my times crept up to 11, 12, or 13 minutes per mile, but I eventually stopped when I found myself struggling to maintain a 14-minute mile. It felt too disheartening, prompting me to seek alternative aerobic workouts.

Enter spin class. You get on a stationary bike and pedal intensely. The environment is dark, the music is energizing, and you can either take it easy or push yourself hard without anyone noticing. I appreciate this anonymity in spin classes.

Another aspect of aging is nostalgia, which can evoke mixed feelings. While often viewed negatively, nostalgia has been shown to have positive effects. Remembering loved ones can evoke feelings of warmth, and reflecting on life milestones can provide a sense of continuity. However, it can also lead to dissatisfaction when we use the past as a yardstick for the present.

Daily life reminds me of how much has changed. Generally, humans resist change, and I find myself particularly averse to it. Having been in a long-term relationship for over four decades and living in the same home for more than thirty years, my memories are deeply rooted in the past.

Some changes have been beneficial, such as new restaurants and a renovated library, but others leave me feeling uneasy. I often find myself reminiscing about how things used to be, questioning the disappearance of local woods and the roles of librarians. I also grumble about the rising costs of living, often lamenting, "Back in my day," to the eye rolls of my inner 45-year-old.

Chapter 2: The Weight of Possessions

The more you possess—be it wealth, health, or happiness—the more you stand to lose. This truth can incite fear, especially as we confront the reality of aging. Traditionally, community and faith have offered support in accepting the aging process as a natural part of life. However, it requires a significant degree of grace to relinquish that fear.

Some individuals take this fear to extremes, such as tech moguls like Jeff Bezos, who invest heavily in anti-aging technology in hopes of achieving immortality. Unlike most of us, they are not burdened by financial concerns regarding their longevity. It raises the question: will they ever truly live to be 150, while their bodies age in ways no human has experienced before?

This first video, "Sum 41 - Still Waiting," reflects the struggle against the passage of time and the feelings of urgency that accompany it, echoing the thoughts I've expressed.

The second video, "Brett Young - You Didn't," captures the essence of nostalgia and the bittersweet nature of memories, resonating with the themes I've explored in this reflection on aging.