Sixty My Way

"If you don't do it this year, you will be one year older when you do."
 - Warren Miller

I hit a milestone a few months ago - the big six-oh.

It's funny, I don't feel like sixty.  Isn't sixty a grey haired grandma who spends her time baking cookies, weeding her flower garden and taking slow meandering walks?  That is not me!  While I do all those things on occasion, it is not all I do. As for the slow meandering walk - I may meander, but I have never walked slowly...just ask my husband!

And I have a job that occupies more than thirty hours a week.

I am not my mother's sixty.  She raised four kids, spent her days cooking, cleaning and doing laundry.  She worked her garden, canned her vegetables and made preserves out of the fruit.  Her life was not easy.  By the time Mom was sixty she had six grandchildren she doted on, had bid two of her best friends a teary farewell and had yet to spend any time in Minnesota where I lived.

My mom's world was small and familiar.

My world is frequently large and challenging.  A little discomfort is good for me...even at sixty.  Acting  outside my comfort zone is what made me tackle the Muckfest 5K last year and what prompted me to sign up again this year - despite my irrational fears.  I am more physically fit than I was last year, so I have no idea what I am afraid of... other than worrying I will not live up to my own personal expectations.  At the encouragement of friends, I take a Pilates class twice a week and an Orange Theory (high intensity interval training) class once a week - both of which are mentally and physically challenging.  While I will never be excited about exercising, I do like the the sense of accomplishment I feel after completing a class.

"You must do the things you think you cannot do."  - Eleanor Roosevelt

Unlike my mom, I will not be a grandmother at sixty...and that's okay.  While my daughter and husband want a family some day, there is no hurry.  They are young and busy.  As strange as it sounds, one of the reasons I want to be fit at sixty is so I can be fit at seventy.  I want to be a "fun" grandmother.  I want to do active outings with those future grandchildren.  I don't want to be afraid to try new things...or have that fear rub off onto impressionable minds.

So, I fight the aging process.

Wrinkles on my face - don't really care about that.  I will never be my college weight again - that's okay, too.  My menopause belly will probably never go away, but the stomach muscles underneath will be strong.  When I look into the mirror I often see my mother look back at me - and that is okay, too.  What is not okay is to give up trying just because I am getting close to the age of Social Security.  Good health is important and should not be taken for granted.  I need to work at it.  If that means eating less junk food and drinking less wine, I can handle that.  If it means exercising when I would rather be watching Netflix, so be it.  If it means committing to a muddy race to support my friend - sign me up!

No more sitting on the sidelines...

A Second Chance

Has it really been five years?

It has. And I am still here to tell the cautionary tale.  You see, five years ago this month, I ignored my body's signals and ended up hospitalized for four days followed by several weeks of recovery at home.  I left the hospital with a tube in my abdomen, an oxygen tank, and a feeling of shame and embarrassment.  You see, my appendix was infected and instead of listening to my body and that inner voice warning me something was wrong...very wrong...I second guessed myself for more than twenty-four hours and ended up in the emergency room sometime after midnight with a ruptured appendix.

Not an experience I would recommend.

Five years ago I wrote several blog posts about my ordeal. I thought about just re-posting the main one on this anniversary, but wondered if time wouldn't allow me some insight I was not able to verbalize five years ago.  If you want to read my original story - or any of the related posts - please search under Appendicitis in the Label section of this blog. 

"Pain nourishes courage.  You can't be brave if you've only had wonderful things happen to you." - Mary Tyler Moore

It really didn't occur to me at the time, but I could have died.  One of my good friends, after hearing what happened, shouted that very thing over the phone at me.  She was really upset - and all I could do was say, but I am still here, in bewilderment.  And then later - I AM STILL HERE!  How lucky am I to get a second chance at life?

I was familiar with appendicitis, but thought it only happened to little kids and young adults.  I thought the pain would be distinctly in your lower right abdomen...or was it your left?  I heard horror stories of how the pain is so unbearable you would not be able to handle it.  That you would know immediately if something was wrong.  Surprise, none of that is true.

First, anyone can get appendicitis at any age.  And for me, the pain was not on one side or the other, it was in the center of my abdomen - like I had over exercised by doing too many crunches.  If you, like me, have a high pain tolerance, the cramps can be written off as the flu.  If you, like me, have been pretty healthy most of your life, appendicitis will probably not be your first thought.  It wasn't mine.

After a day of pain that was not getting any better, my mind did start to think outside the box. Yours should, too.  Google your symptoms and believe it when the most obvious answer is not the one you expected, but is the one you secretly feared.  Don't be embarrassed to believe your suspicions may be correct.  Go to the doctor.  Don't self diagnose for too long or you will end up like me...hospitalized, weak, sore, and with a scar that travels from your belly button to your pelvic bone and looks kind of like a baby butt.  If you are treated before your appendix ruptures, at the first signs of pain, you will have a simple laparoscopic surgery and be back to normal in about a week instead of facing two months of recovery.

Once your appendix ruptures the surgery is very invasive.

The good news is I did recover.  I am as physically strong as I ever was.  I take better care of myself and watch out for my loved ones.  My faith in God was strengthened.  I started to write.  I found my voice.  I appreciate life and see God's hand in places I never bothered to notice before.  I try to be more patient, more loving, more aware.  I try not to be so fearful, to attempt new things, to go beyond what I think I can accomplish.  I've traveled near and far.  I cultivated new friendships, re-energized old ones, and learned to appreciate every moment I have with my extended family.

I wonder at God's canvas as he paints the clouds in a beautiful sunrise of pinks, oranges, and reds.  When He brightens the end day sky in Broncos blue and orange.  When He prompts me to notice the sparkling white mountaintops in the distance.  I laugh at the bunnies hiding in the front yard, marvel at the abundance of flowers cascading through the bushes, and smile at the sweet music of birds in the morning.

I was granted a second chance to discover what my life should look like...and it is good.