Through the Ages : There...

If it weren’t for the calendar, I wouldn’t know I was getting older. OK, there are some reminders: a gray hair, a wrinkle or two around my very nearsighted eyes, and, oh yes, the fact that my muscles show me less respect than they did when I was 25. (Nine years ago, I ran a 7.5-mile race with bare-bones training. If I did that now, I’d be doing a little post-race one-on-one with Ben-Gay.)

I think I’m reminded more often that I’m 34 by the non-physical.

Such as, my baby sister is 33. Thirty-three!

Such as, 14 years ago, I was counting the years toward college graduation. Now, I’m counting the years toward retirement.

Such as, I’m about to mail off a birthday card to a woman I’ve been friends with since we were both 7. Is it really possible I’ve been alive long enough to have known someone 27 years?

Was it actually half my lifetime ago that I left behind high school, pimples (well, maybe that’s wishful thinking) and braces?

And has it been 13 years since I first played blackjack in a casino and not at the kitchen table with Dad?

Yes, the calendar tells me so. But my incredulity stems from the fact that most of the time, I don’t feel older. I’ll concede that at times I might act like a teen-ager, but that’s probably a whole other story. Pretty soon, I’ll be twice the age I was when I graduated from college. Gee whiz. (Gee whiz, does anyone still use that phrase?)

So here I am, waiting for those “truisms” about getting older to kick in, particularly the one about eating less as you age. Uh-huh.

Unfortunately, I can still pack it away in amounts that would make George Foreman proud.

And just as unfortunate is my amazing talent for sometimes evading exercise. It’s too hot. It’s too cold. I’m too tired. I’m too hungry. I’m too full. Today’s a day with a Y in it.

When I was younger, I just did it. Laced up the running shoes and took off because it was good for me. I even ran in heavy-duty rain.

Now, I need a little more incentive. Even JFK Jr. waiting back at my doorstep with a bottle of Gatorade and two glasses doesn’t seem to be enough.

Gee whiz, I must be losing it.