A lament about ageing

“Bull shit!”
When you hear people saying these are the ‘golden years,’ they’re full of it. The best years of your life! Bologna. A great period of life? Agreed, considering the future alternative.

I lament and complain about many things associated with ageing. Weakening muscles, continual fatigue, lack of energy, the get-up-and-go has gotten up and gone, and that’s not even naming the afflictions and maladies that come with old age.

I always thought ‘other’ people get it. Too bad. Now, I got it. That’s worse.

Old people suffer from arthritis. Guess what. It bothers me now. Wrecks my sleep at night. Slows me down all day long. Pains me when I get up from a chair. Pains me when I sit down. Pains me as I walk upstairs. Pains me when I walk down them.

A life-long battle. I beat it down years ago when I was exercising 2-3 hours a day, 5 days a week. You read that correctly. I beat the weight down but I was miserable. The gym, the pool, the weight room, every day for hours. That’s not how one should live. I stopped. The weight regained the upper hand. But in old age, it plays a dirtier game. Weight loss now — an impossibility. Diet? Renounce booze? Give up cheese? Fugeddaboudit. Pizza? A foreign dish. Chinese food? Year, sure! Pasta? Whatsa? Worse still with weight now, it’s become a matter of “easy come, no go!”

There are various facets to this ‘ageing disintegration.’ The mental one is varied. There is the inability to focus or stay so. Some call it brain fog. The label is unimportant. One’s focus wavers. One moment you think this, the next you are unable to think what it was you were thinking of a moment before. Another example, you pledge to remember something later in the day. A day later, if you’re lucky, you remember it. Problems that were once easily solved and simple have now become unsolvable enigmas that would challenge NASA engineers.

Emotions become less manageable. You become angry at the drop of a hat, unaccountably or unnecessarily. You blurt out responses and replies that are uncharacteristic. Mr. Hyde has taken up residence in your emotional wheelhouse.

So what does this leave me?
So where does that leave me? I’ll tell you where. Angry, pissed off and ready to fight a losing battle. However, I’m going out fighting. I’ll do everything I can to fight Mr. Old Age, within reason. Some things will remain for now: “OK. You win but I am still going to do it while I still can.” My daily scotch, anchored as the Titanic is to its Atlantic bed. It may be down to just one a day but that one is savoured, sipped and enjoyed and screw you, Old Age. Steak?

Up yours, man. OK, once a month. Ditto on a lot of other things like pizza, Chinese food, red meat, Italian sausage. You know if you space it right, you can eat a ‘forbidden’ almost every day. Ok, so almost every day. I eat lots of salad. A rabbit would kill for my diet. Veggies? Tons though I am miles from becoming a vegetarian. Fruit? People may label me a fruitcake based on my current fruit intake. My nightly snack, early in the evening no less, a damn pear!

Life’s a battle now
I am in a war now, battling against an undefeatable opponent, old age. I’m not giving in. I am going to keep trying to do what I did in the past refusing to give up one single thing from my younger days without a real fight, a real battle. I know I’m going to lose, eventually, but not it will be a loss that was the fight of my life. Bring it on, Old Age.

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