The aging process isn’t always graceful

In searching the internet for “aging gracefully,” I learned the term is often used for “looking old, but still holding on” or “showing signs of aging, but still moving forward with life.”

I prefer the second definition.

I definitely like to think that, while for sure showing signs of aging, I am still moving forward. Some things are just a little harder than they once were.

It’s not as easy as it once was to get in and out of the car. In the not-so-distant past, I would just walk over to the car and sit down when it was time to get in. When it was time to get out, I would just put my feet on the ground and stand up. That’s not the case these days.

Now, to get in, I walk to the car, turn my back to it, then sit down and then swing my legs into the car. In order to get out, I swing my legs slowly out of the car first, then slowly stand up. Gone are the days of putting one foot on the ground and springing out.

The same principle applies for getting out of chairs, getting off the couch, getting out of bed, etc. It also applies to stairs and steps. If there is a long flight of stairs, the elevator has become my friend.

I’ve been a tennis player for going on 50 years now. In recent years, it has become more and more of an issue to move. Obviously, the older I get, the more of an issue this becomes. Truth be told, it has become frustrating at times. I see the ball going to a particular spot, and my brain still knows how I should get there and what I should do once I get there. However, many times my legs are no longer cooperative.

I’m trying to realize that I can still have fun playing and hitting the balls I’m able to hit. Sometimes this goes fairly well. Other times, it goes fairly badly. It’s an adjustment for sure not being able to do a thing you were once pretty good at the same way you used to do it.

I’m not sure if it’s the result of trying to deny the aging process or not, but since I left the full-time workforce last August I haven’t cut my hair. The last time I had long hair was in high school, which was in ... well, it was a while ago. I had a ponytail back then. I could probably have one now, except I can’t remember how to do it. I guess I’ll have to have someone give me ponytail lessons.

Having this much hair is, at times, like living in a house with a dog that sheds, except I don’t have a dog. Hair winds up everywhere. At least constantly sweeping it up is a low-impact way to get some cardio in.

Thankfully, for the most part, I can still remember things. I do have an oldschool calendar I write places I’m supposed to be on just in case. I’m still not one to use the fancy one on my fancy phone that is way smarter than I am.

While I’m not always pleased with the results of aging, I’m happy to have made it this far (almost 63 when this comes out). As I say more frequently these days, “It’s a good day when I’m on this side of the dirt.”