Two weeks ago I turned 41 and a few days after my birthday I found myself filling out a form to demo a pair of skis at our local hill. The woman waiting for me to finish was peering over my shoulder as I filled in the blanks and when I got to "age" I consciously and deliberately wrote in 40. Now the difference between 40 and 41 is relatively negligible unless you're clinging to your youth and hanging out with a sporty set that may be close in age but looks way younger. At least that's how I felt about it at the time. I choked on 41. 41 throws me fully and directly into my "early" 40s which, whether I like it or not, is exactly where I am.
Yesterday a conversation on menopause came up as it often does these days. I was talking with my cousin Sarah who is 15 years my senior and she was relating all the changes that one has to look forward to as a woman. It's not enough that you leave most of your sexy behind in your 30s but then you have to face menopause, the big prize package you get for bleeding once a month for your entire adult life! But change is inevitable. The skin isn't as tight as it once was. I really noticed this last winter working up at a ski lodge with all the barely 20 something's and their beautiful translucent baby soft skin compared to my wrinkled, sun toughened smiley face. Gravity works and shit falls down and the under wire bra that makes me look like an 18 year old is strictly part of the salvage package. I don't yet dye my hair but i do pluck the grays. I recall sitting in my aunt's bathroom at the age of 6 watching her pluck her grays and wondering why she was doing that.... I no longer wonder and I have my stylist on speed dial waiting for the day when plucking is no longer enough. And then there's what I refer to as the "boxing" effect that hits all women no matter how petite or svelte. The squaring of one's ass, which as it begins to sag, becomes more geometrical in shape than organic. It's the final kiss off from mother nature and father time for surviving menopause and possibly cancer. So much to look forward to!
The truth is I'm probably in the best physical shape I've been in in my life. Certainly I wasn't this fit in my 20s, I was far too lazy. Of course when I was in my 20s I didn't have to work as hard at staying fit and the deposits of flesh that creep over belts, straps and stretchy bits of fabric were nowhere to be seen. I could fall down skiing and bounce back up and ski again the next day. Now, I don't dare fall down. The knees hurt most of the time, the back and shoulders are somewhat chronic and of course there is the carpal tunnel syndrome brought on by a lifestyle of vigorous work and ignoring the idea that eventually I wouldn't get better. What can a girl do other than pop another extra strength ibuprofen gel cap and head outside? Oh, and botox? As soon as I feel it's time I'm all about it. I have no qualms about medical science helping me out. Why not enjoy what I see in the mirror when I crawl out of bed in the morning?
On the up side I am pleased to announce that for the first time in 6 months, my boyfriend and I got gussied up, put on our dancing shoes, downed alcohol and various illegal substances and hit a dance floor till about 6am. Saturday was rough but we were up at 10am (to collect his son) and although we walked slowly we still moved throughout the day. But between you and me.... it's Monday and I'm still feeling the fog of war....
But you gotta do something and since I start a new job tomorrow I'm taking my last day of freedom, slapping on my knee brace, putting on my skis and skins, I'm grabbing the dog and I'm climbing up a mountain just to ski back down it.... because I can. I'd rather be sore and tired pumped on ibuprofen than sitting inside watching the sun pass over the mountains through the living room window while my butt gets flat and my boobs move on down towards my belly button. But hey, that's just how I roll.
