It has come up that perhaps I am not “aging gracefully.” A friend of mine, for whom I have an incredible amount of respect, told me in this way.  “Rob,” she said, “you need to age gracefully, and you aren’t.”  More to the point, I seem to be fighting getting older pretty much every chance I get.

First, I work hard to keep up with the cadets I whom I teach. The oldest one is 19; most are between 14 and 17.  I try hard not to let them beat me in pullups, push-ups, or abdominal crunches (and they usually don’t).  I have conceded at least running with them (but I still will pace them for a quarter mile if they need it).   Second, I started studying karate shortly before my 43^rd birthday.  I’m usually the oldest student in my class, and most of the time older than the sensei teaching the class.  Virtually every one I spar with is younger than me, and I push myself to keep up because I don’t want to be “the old guy.”  Third, I give a ration of grief to anyone that reminds me that I am getting older, even though they are of course correct.

I’ve noticed a few things that remind me, in moments of clarity, that I am indeed getting older. First there’s the napping. From the time I stopped napping as an infant until the time I retired from the military, I took virtually NO naps during the day, unless I was ill.  Now, my best weekends are defined by a nap on both Saturday AND Sunday.

Second, we have the injury/healing process. Because I’m too dumb to slow down, I still hurt myself in the same ways I used to; minor things like sprains, strains, the occasional dislocation.   But now there are new wrinkles (actually that’s a whole different story).  The other day, I hurt myself SLEEPING.  No joke, I woke up with a stiff neck from sleeping on it wrong. On top of that, I have noticed that the recovery process takes, in a word, forever.  A muscle pull that used to take two days to work itself out is now lasting longer than some of the relationships from my late twenties.

And then there are the actual wrinkles, and gray hair. I’ve been losing my hair since I was 27 or so, and am well past that ignominy.  However, I’m having a hard time dealing with the fact that the hair I have remaining is getting grayer by the minute, and if I don’t shave for a few days my once-upon-a-time manly dark stubble is even more gray than what’s left on my head.

Part of me wants to sit down and really think about this; how I’m going to “age gracefully” and move with dignity into my golden years. Most of me can’t stop thinking about the fact that I will continue to age while I take the time to reflect on aging, and doesn’t want to waste the time I have left.  A small part of me wants to take up skydiving to prove I’m still young at heart.

Father Time is going to beat me, eventually.  Just not this week…