I’m turning the big 4-0 next week.

This has been a hard confession.

I’ve ignored it, screamed about it, had a few too many glasses of vino as I reflected on it.

I’ve told my kids I’m turning 25, again, and they believe it (you gotta love kids!)

I’ve told people I would not be celebrating this year, that I didn’t want gifts, and that if they found me wandering the neighborhood mumbling incoherently to leave me the heck alone!

I’ve also told off all those happy people who just turned 40 and who have said, “Oh, it’s just a number! Look at me! I’m so happy!” with a lot of exclamation points in their voice. (Who the hell wants to get old, is what I say?! Once you hit 21 you can legally do everything you need to do. From there it’s all downhill!)

I’ve spent a lot of time looking backward in the past month, recalling those things I loved about being younger and cursing those things I hate about growing older.

But life is a, well, you know what it is, and then you move on.

You have to keep running, right?

So I am.

Now, this week I plan to spend my time considering the things I love about getting older.

I’m going to ignore the few gray hairs that have sprouted up on my head like wayward children, and the cricks and creaks and groans my bones make when I get out of bed in the morning.

Screw the stomach that doesn’t agree with hot sauce anymore – she’s getting it anyway, because I’m not slowing down.

And the fact that I can’t stay up past 11 anymore without feeling like crap the next day, even if I’m only snuggled up on the couch with a good book, will just have to wait.

One thing I’ve noticed is my addiction,  obsession,  love of running has actually changed for the good as I’ve aged, unlike the wrinkles near my eyes.

I’ve learned:

1. My body can perform miracles. It birthed two babies and it has run two marathons. I can run in the rain, in t he heat, in the snow, and on ice. I can run with a cold. I can run when I think I don’t want to run (and oftentimes, those end up being the best runs).
2. I don’t have anything to prove to anyone else. In my earlier years, especially my twenties, running was about winning. It was about going faster than the next person. I’d even hurt myself attempting to do this. Nowadays I realize running is internal, it’s intrinsic, it’s in-me. I just have to do it; that’s the beauty of running.
3. If it hurts, I should slow down. When you’re young , pain seems good. “Oh yea, my knee was on FIRE man and I ran to the finish line anyway! Sure, they may have to replace it, but I have another one, right?” Um, until you get older. Then you realize if you do something stupid, like run while injured, you may be giving up running for good. And trust me, when you’re on the bad side of 40 you don’t want to have to give shit up for good. Period.
4. Running, it does a body good. Finally, all I can say is this: I’m in better shape now than I was when I graduated high school, graduated college, finished my master’s degree, and married my husband. Running has gotten me through ups and downs and highs and lows, and in the meantime it has allowed me to continue to wear the same size clothes for the past 10 years even while eating peanut butter straight out of the jar. Not too shabby.

While I’m not happy about turning 40, nor will I ever be, I can see some of the upsides to aging, even though my eyesight, sadly, is not what it was when I was 20.

Who needs the eyes anyway, right?

In the meantime I have scheduled 2 half marathons, one in February and one in March, as I recover from my cartilage tear. If all goes well I’d like to do one marathon prior to summer; if it doesn’t, oh well. (You see, there is it, that great running attitude again! Forty still stinks though!)

Happy Running!