What else can I get myself into? (note: that's a rhetorical question)

So it looks like I'm trying to see how many stupid things I can do at once, and to see what level of stress my body and mind will both accept. 

First, I'm running a Ragnar race next week.  For those of you who don't know what a Ragnar is (and why would i expect you to?) it's a 36 hour long relay race, where you get together with 11 friends, pile into two vans and run three times over the course of 36 hours, with little sleep, nothing but road food, and lots and lots of other runners.  But don't worry - there are no prizes (at least not for my team) and no glory to be had - just a good fun weekend.  Sounds great, right?

Oh, and I'm running a half marathon the week after that.  Wish I had paid more attention to the calendar now.

Then there's this conference.  I'm on the verge of signing up to be a speaker at a conference next year in my profession (corporate accounting).  I'm not a terrific public speaker, and I have no business doing this.  But it's out of my comfort zone, it's something I know I *can* do, and I have plenty of time (the conference isn't until June).  This may be a terrible idea, but that's the theme of this blog, right?

Finally, I've (accidentally?) signed up to be the social media coordinator for my church.  Our current one (who set up our Facebook page about 4 months ago) left the area, and I think I volunteered for this last night.  Note to self: Stop asking questions about who's going to do something that needs to be done!

Its been an interesting week in terms of my behavior, and the things I'm getting myself into.  Maybe this is the start of great things!  Maybe it's the inciting force for my upcoming nervous breakdown.  And maybe I'll learn to stop meddling into my own affairs sometime soon.

Where's the "er"?

Given my family history, and my requirements for Boy Scouts, I keep up with my health checkups.  So I recently went to see my doctor for my annual physical.  We went through the results of my blood tests, and she asked me how I was doing.  No major complaints, I said, but I’ve been feeling a little less energetic, and seemed to be more subject to minor irritations like soreness, discomfort, or poor sleeping.  That’s not too surprising, she said, because you’re starting to get old.

I waited for the ‘er’. 

As in, “You’re starting to get old-er”.  It didn’t come.     Why didn’t it come?, I thought  Did she really mean what she said?  Did she realize the implications of that missing syllable?  Was it just a slip, or was she trying to tell me something?

After all, we’re all getting older – that’s just a fact of life and numbers.  But I’m not ready to think of myself as old.  Sure, I’m in my mid-forties, but in my eye, I’m still in my late 20’s / early 30’s  - still learning new things, having new experiences, trying to figure out my real place in the world.  How could I be thought of as old? Maybe in the 1700’s I would qualify, but this is the 21^st century, and my life expectancy is 93.  I’m not halfway done on this planet yet.

Besides that, we had just finished discussing that I was in great health.  I’m an active person, even to the point of running marathons and triathlons.  I’m all there mentally (ok, mostly) and while I could lose a few pounds, all I have is a minor issue here or there.  They’re nothing debilitating, and more just things that ‘we should watch’, given my history and my family history.  My doc actually downplayed all of the things that I was worried would take me down – she said none of those seemed to be real issues for me.

So why the “old” reference?  I’ve mostly convinced myself that she really didn’t mean it, that it was a throwaway comment to dismiss my concerns as “no big deal” (and they aren’t a big deal).  I did hesitate telling my wife this story, on the off chance that she would agree with my doctor, though.

But it has gotten me thinking about what ‘old’ really means to me, and I’m just not there, and can’t even see there from here.  To me, old implies inactive, passive, disengaged and weak, while old-er simply means that things change.  Fortunately, I have role models in my mother and in-laws of what older can be without being old – they’re all in their 70s, and are physically and mentally active, and engaged in their communities. 

That’s encouraging to say the least, and provide a blueprint for me to follow as I celebrate the many birthdays yet to come.  And with health issues headed for the bottom of my worry list, I can focus a little bit on being happy.

Or should I say, happy-er?