Wednesday, December 21, 2011
Yup. Me. Tomorrow.
I'm definitely not going to run 60 miles to celebrate, or 60k. Sixty minutes, well, I'm a little out of shape coming back from my ankle injury..... I could do 60 minutes if I throw in a walk every now and then. I could bike 60k, maybe. Not 60 miles, that would take me 5 hours and leave me pretty darn tired for dinner with family.
Aha!!! Sixty push-ups!! Yes, I can, if I do them in sets.
I could read Psalm 60. And the 60th chapter of any of the books in the Bible that go that far.
Or I could go to confession and get 60 Our Father's and 60 Hail Mary's. (I'm not Catholic but I used to be and the most I ever got was 3 of one or the other.)
When I turned 50, I had an epiphany. I had lived half a century and was older than a good many people, and by golly they'd better show respect. Hey, folks, I'm playing it like I mean it now.... no more tiptoeing around hoping I don't screw up. I'm all grown up and I'm putting my foot down solid you better listen to what I say.
I kept that for a couple years.
Maybe I should turn 50 again.
Sixty, well actually I'm doing OK....you can't really tell by looking at me, but I do in fact do push-ups, and I bike and I run and I do yoga and I hike. A person might not picture me riding my bike up The Wall and then continuing up Big Savage Mountain without "weaving" like some of the riders in the photos (if you clicked on the link.) I ride it straight. And they don't usually expect a 60-year-old woman to put on a 30-pound backpack and hit the Appalachian Trail.
I'll look a physical challenge right in the eye. It's the psychological ones that still throw me for a loop. And I still don't know what I want to be when I grow up.