I was commiserating with a fellow swimmer this morning, discussing the ravages of old age. The aches and pains needing ice and/or heat, odd bumps, strange bruises and hurts that take longer to heal than they used to. The need for a day off from training, longer warm ups and shorter races. Mind you, I am looking at age 60 and my fellow swimmer is in his mid-seventies. So he gets the old age thing better than I do, even though he looks good and competes like nobody’s business. And he reminded me that I was just a young ‘un with a long way to go.
I’d like to add another freak factor to this aging conundrum. It’s hair. Specifically, hair in the wrong places. My eyebrows have thinned, and I am finding those lost hairs in my nose. My face needs constant attention to main
tain a baby-smooth countenance. I gave up on my arms, since waxing thinned the skin to the point of bruising when I touched a protruding shelf or open drawer. If you want to know about my legs and beyond…well, no, you really don’t. Just know that the cost of personal body maintenance exceeds the cost of keeping my car on the road.
I blame this hairy situation on genetics. If there’s one thing my family counts on, it’s good hair, though like most people, we prefer it on our heads. My family tree is covered with mostly thick, curly, dark, wavy hair, though a few straight-haired people show up on a branch now and then. We are the kind of people who keep spas, salons and dermatologists happy and wealthy as they fight and defeat our unwanted follicles.
Getting older could be much worse. I could be deceased and miss the process completely. Or disabled by pain and physical immobility, and go through it minus the joys. And speaking of joys, I need to check on my supply of shampoo and conditioner. If I’m going to have hair, it has to be clean.
An update on my quest for 50 Races In 50 States: Louisiana is completed. I am planning to run in four states next year: Colorado, New York, Maryland and Pennsylvania.