All about pacing.....

It wasn't a problem for a long time.....decades, actually.


When it became a problem, I didn't recognize it for years.


When I DID recognize it, I attempted to ignore it.


Finally, I accepted it with gritted teeth.


As we age, we find that our minds can outpace rings around our energy levels. At least that's the way it's been for me. In the morning, it sounds great to plan on attending an evening gathering with friends. Sure, why not? I say when I accept the invitation. That sounds like fun, and I like the people going, so count me in.


Oops. By about 4 PM, I realize my mistake. I've worked all day, intellectually at the office and then  physically at the gym, so I'm exhausted from head to toe and back again.

I was stymied by that for a lot of years, feeling as if I was exhibiting the "stick in the mud" mentality I was so often accused of in my 20s and 30s. (For good reason at that point in time, but the person inhabiting this skin isn't the same one who left the building a long time ago and I don't  like to be reminded of those days. I get a tad cranky when I even get a whiff of that phrase today.)


But then I realized that my energy  reserves were no longer at any "stick in the mud" levels (oh, the irony of it all, right?). It wasn't that I was sticking anywhere, to anything. My body simply couldn't keep up any longer. My life has expanded in ways that are often unrecognizable to me as I have aged. I dance, I engage in interval training that involves weight lifting, I seek out new adventures every month. I'm a lot more fun and I have fun in ways that I hadn't even dreamed of when I was decades younger.


I even hate writing this. It hurts. But reality must be faced, and this is it: We have to learn to pace ourselves as we move into the latter decades. (I did NOT say as we "get old," I hope you noticed that.) What that means on a daily basis is that I must view the events of the day, and into the evening, from a longer perspective than my younger years demanded.


If I work all day, hit the gym in the afternoon, and have some writing to do at home before I slide between my sheets to read before sleep, then I can't schedule a dance lesson that particular day. Or I have to change the gym to tomorrow, and dance today. And forget going out at night if I dance OR exercise within the same 24-hour block of day. Not going to happen. 


Yes, it's a hard reality to swallow. But those of you who are younger than me, heed my words here. You may think you are immune to what all of us ultimately face, whether it's cellulite in places you never even thought about or flagging energy levels. You're not. Sure, you can pay to have the lumps removed or buy pricey energy drinks, but the reality is still evident.


Thoreau spoke of keeping pace with our companions, and something about drums. I don't need to stay abreast of those folks. It just takes more energy to keep that drummer in sight at all.

If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer. Let him step to the music which he hears, however measured or far away.
Henry David Thoreau

Tug of war.....

     Her voice was plaintive, worry dripping from her tone like sap oozing from a slow tap. This friend of mine, one I've known for over 15 years, is about 10 years younger than me. We've stayed in touch as she moved from our neighborhood to another across the river, and then on to Idaho and back. I'm the rooted one, remaining in one place now for over 20 years, the military brat finally at home.

     But the other day she was thinking there must be something physically wrong with her. "I just want to come home and enjoy my house after work. I don't want to go out. What's wrong with me?" she wondered aloud as we talked on the phone.

     I remember those feelings. I've already gone through my 50s, the decade that pulls from both sides, so I can fill her in and assure her that she is in a totally recognizable place. On one side, our 40s were a time of excitement, as we finally came into our own. Lots of activity as our kids grew up and left and our income had worked its way up a bit so we actually have some discretionary income. On the other side lie the 60s, a time of sheer relaxation outside of work commitments.  I have become more introspective, pondering where I have been and what remains for me as I am half way through my 62nd year. Life no longer marches; it meanders.

     That tug from the 40s side of the timeline still has her in its grip, but the opposite magnetic pull as she approaches 60 is becoming equally strong, the one that lets it hair down and doesn't feel like it has to impress anyone with constant movement. She wants to come home to her beloved dogs, pour a glass of wine, and sink into her easy chair and be......easy. Quiet. Still. Much like I savor the freedom to do absolutely nothing if I choose. I don't allow anyone else's expectations of what my life should be like to cajole me into anything. Oh, that I had learned it much sooner.

     I assured her this tug of war with the competing years on either side is natural. The relief in her voice was palpable, I could hear it.

     So, I hope she breathed a sigh of relief, and then sipped a glass of wine as she watched the sunset paint in watercolor across the sky. I know I did.

     Change always comes bearing gifts.  ~Price Pritchett