February 28: In my mind, I’m ten years younger than my chronological age. I can run five to ten kilometers three or four times a week. I have a workout routine that mimics CrossFit, and I honestly feel that I am in better shape than most of my contemporaries. It’s difficult for me to acknowledge that I am fully a decade older than those days.
Vulnerable: susceptible to physical or emotional attack or harm: (of a person) in need of special care, support, or protection because of age, disability, or risk of abuse or neglect.
The past few weeks have brought sad and disturbing news about those close to me. A sibling has died; another is “getting his life in order”, while another is facing a debilitating loss of cognition. Two others have had strokes and thankfully survived. Closer to home, my friends and I are told that we should have work done on our teeth, our eyesight is failing and we should get hearing aids. The morning brings new aches and pains and we walk like Tim Conway doing the old man sketch on Carol Burnett’s program. So, I hear you say, you are in your eighth decade and getting older every day. What do you expect?
I still think I should feel as good as I did ten years ago. Returning to those days is simply a matter of working harder. But no matter how hard I want to do the work, no matter how much I want to return to those days, I also know that I will not likely do so. Without making that commitment, my future will likely follow the path of the majority of my contemporaries: increasing infirmity and progressively worse health.
Should: used to indicate obligation, duty, or correctness, typically when criticizing someone’s actions.
My friend Kate occasionally takes me to task for using the word “should” in reference to things I feel I want to do. “I should be running more. I should work out…” She correctly points out that “should” is a judgmental word in that context; and when I use it in reference to my own actions, I am reinforcing the idea that somehow I am not measuring up. When I say that I should go for a run and then don’t do it, I feel that I am a failure; I’m not succeeding at those things that are important to me.
Could: past of can; used to indicate possibility.
Lately, I have begun to try using the word “could” in reference to my plans. I could go for a run. But if I decide not to, I could still go for a walk and achieve something of benefit to my health. As it says in the definition, there is still the possibility of a positive outcome and some reinforcement of the idea that my best is still good enough.
Nearing the middle of my eighth decade there is certainly a forceful sense of vulnerability as I see the challenges that me and my friends will face sooner than we may wish. These are not surprising; they are pretty much inevitable. What may not be inevitable is the attitude with which we approach our future, and with that in mind, I’m working toward a more positive and hopefully beneficial outlook to the days that remain. The best days could still be ahead.