Just finished up a 2-V-1* football game. That's when Lil' S2 and his friend JP beat up on me in our basement in the guise of a football game. It's basically just a brawl, and for the most part, I let them win, but every fifth play or so, I'll put them in their place, just to make it interesting, and just to remind them, you're not there yet, kid. You can't beat the old man just yet. Although, "yet" really is the operative word. They are only getting bigger, faster, stronger; and I'm, well, not. It's only a matter of time before our graphs cross--certainly within the next decade.
*This reminds me of a joke from The Onion, in which Thomas Pynchon was suing the makers of a 1983 sci-fi miniseries for the fifth time: V.-V.-V-V.
It's tough to say exactly when, however, because aging is not linear. People typically get older in bursts, not at a constant rate. One of those bursts is usually around 44, and now that I'm 47, I can say that that definitely happened for me. I feel so much older than I did just a few years ago. My body is more achy and recovery takes longer (if it happens at all); I'm slower and less mobile; I have less vim; and physical activity that was once really enjoyable has lost a lot of its appeal. With Lil' S2 and his friend, I've got about 15 minutes in me before I have to call it (okay, next touchdown wins). And I used to love my weekly wrestling class, but now I'm like, Uh... I think I'll do some weight training instead. Rolling around on a mat in physical combat against somebody who's likely to be 15 years my junior doesn't sound like a fun way to spend my time anymore. I can still hold my own, mind you, but the thrill is mostly gone.
One positive byproduct of this, however, is that I'm stronger -- in terms of sheer power -- than I've ever been in my entire life. Lifting weights is a great exercise for late 40s/early 50s people because you can go at your own pace, modify as needed, and keep up with the youngsters. Brute-force lifting ability is usually one of the last things to go. Old man strength is real! I might not be able to sprint 25 yards without blowing out my hamstring, but I can do a 5x5 bench-press workout with 185 pounds without needing a spot.
There are, however, limits to this. Father time is undefeated, as the saying goes. There is a guy at my gym, who I'd peg as early to mid-60s, and he's weak as shit.* I know this because I sometimes lift with him, and he says to me, "I'm weak as shit." He's clearly embarrassed by it, but he shouldn't be. He should be proud that he's still trying at his age. He does this thing that men do sometimes: He uses weights that are clearly too heavy for him because he doesn't want everybody to see him using lighter weights.** But this is incredibly silly, because, it's not like he's just telling people how much he can lift, he's actually doing it, so when he goes too heavy everybody can see that. Failing to press the 15-pound dumbbells is actually less impressive than successfully pressing the 10-pound dumbbells.
*He reminds of my father-in-law. They both have brown skin, wispy, thinning hair, thick glasses, and are built like a chopstick.
**I've never once seen a woman do this. It's definitely a male ego thing. The instructor made the old man use lighter weights, and he said to me, "Aw, man, I feel like even more of a punk now."
It's also incredibly silly because he's clearly well past his prime, and because nobody cares how much you can lift, anyway. In fact, one of the keys to making progress in weightlifting is being honest with yourself and using weights that you can actually lift properly. If you go too heavy, you can't get the full range of motion nor can you do as many reps as you should, so it's very inefficient. Plus, if you stick with it, you won't be on the light weights forever. Even a mid-60s man who's weak as shit could get stronger. I mean, he's probably not going to go from 10s to 65s (which is what I do for dumbbell press -- no big deal), but he could go from 10s to like 25s.
In other news, this will likely be my last post for a few weeks because S and I are heading out of town for a wedding soon. Her very good friend E is getting married, and it's one of those events of which I want the experience of doing it without actually doing it, if that makes sense. I love E (platonically speaking), but her wedding is occurring at a very inconvenient moment in spacetime for me. It's in Palm Springs, which I've been to almost every year for the past decade, and it's one of the more annoying places in the contiguous United States to get to from DC. I mean, we have three major airports within an hour of our house -- how do none of them have a direct flight? And I always seem to have problems with the connecting flights.
Also, we are currently in the middle of the school year, so we have to do something with the kids. (S's sister has graciously agreed to stay at our house with them.) And, with the election around the corner, it's a time of high anxiety, in general, and there are few things better (worse?) than travel to heighten preexisting anxiety to barely tolerable levels. It definitely doesn't help that S and I will be on the same plane without our children, something that always makes me a uneasy, even though it's completely irrational on several levels. For one thing, I feel completely comfortable driving long distances with S without the kids, and you are much more likely to die in a car crash than a plane crash. For another, I feel comfortable when we fly together as a family, but if our plane was to crash, it would obviously be better if it was just S and I, as opposed to all four of us. So, it makes no sense.
But, actually, it does make sense, because it's about human emotion, not logic, and even for a half-robot like myself, the former can often trump the latter. Emotionally, it's perfectly reasonable to be apprehensive about traveling 600 mph in a relatively small metal tube 40,000 feet in the air. It doesn't matter how dangerous it actually is -- our evolution has not caught up with aviation safety statistics. And it's also perfectly reasonable to feel safer when your family is around you. That's the thing about so many irrational fears. They only look irrational when you zoom in to this particular moment in human history. If you look at the entire timeline of humanity, they make a lot of sense.
Until next time...
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