Well, I finally qualify for senior-citizen discounts at Denny’s and other fine dining establishments. Yup, 55 years old as of 12:01 AM this morning. I believe I’m supposed to spend the day feeling depressed about my wasted youth and my impending decline and eventual doom.
Nope, not gonna happen. I’ll be spending today doing some shopping with Chareva, playing some disc golf, watching my Titans get hammered by the Colts on Thursday Night Football, and feeling pretty good about life in general.
If I’d been a lean jock-type as a young man, maybe the then-versus-now comparison would be a little depressing. But here’s the “then” comparison for me — two pictures taken sometime in my early or mid 30s:
And here’s me twenty-some years later, shortly after stepping out of the shower on the morning of my 55th birthday:
I’m not cut, I’m not at 10% body fat, and I still have some residual softness around the middle that may never go away. But considering how I looked and felt for most of my adult life, I’ll happily accept where I’m at now.
Back then, I loved to eat, but also considered food my enemy. Food was the stuff that made me fat. Now I still love to eat, but consider food my friend. I don’t try to semi-starve myself into being leaner. If I’m hungry, I eat something. I just had to learn which foods to eat.
And now I’m off to enjoy my birthday.
p.s. — To everyone who wants to leave a Happy Birthday comment: I’ll thank you all now instead of within the comments.