Cyndi and I were in our favorite booth-in-the-back-corner at Rosa’s, enjoying our last plate of tacos for 2007, when she suggested: “You should stop telling people that you are trying to age gracefully. I know what you mean when you say it, but it doesn’t reflect the hope that’s in your heart. It sounds like you’ve given up and you’re just trying to be graceful in your last days.” Those weren’t her exact words, but that’s what she said. She was correct.
In fact, I started using that phrase after a friend asked me why I was still trying to run marathons and lift weights and go to yoga class and all that. “Are you trying to get younger? Reverse the aging process?” he asked.
I said, “No, I’m not trying to reverse anything. I’m just trying to keep going; trying to age gracefully.”
Lifting weights and yoga are tools I’ve been using to make me stronger and more flexible so that maybe my chronic injuries won’t keep me from running. “If I’d been doing both of those for the past ten years I might not be limping every time you see me walking down the hall,” I said.
“Would you still be limping if you stopped trying to run?” he asked, thinking he had the solution to my problem.
“Probably not. But I spent most of last year walking instead of running and my knee didn’t change much.”
“So maybe you should take up a different hobby?”
“I’m just not ready to sit down yet. I still need to move my feet, even if it means more limping.”
There’s just something important about being able to move. For Cyndi, I should say, it’s ALL about movement. For her, movement is spiritual - it equals freedom and choice. The ability to move, to dance, to work out, to run, is a gift from God. It’s one of the lessons I am learning from Cyndi … staying fit is a privilege that allows me the freedom to take on so many adventures.
The thing about all that is this – I don’t look at getting older as a bad thing. I wouldn’t turn it around, or go back to my younger days, even if I could. I’ve learned too much since then and I wouldn’t want to give that up.
It’s taken me 51.53 years to find my voice as a writer and as a teacher, to know where the jokes are and when to speak up and when to keep quiet.
It’s taken me 28.44 years of marriage, 31.04 years of dating (they run concurrently, by the way) to learn how to love Cyndi.
It’s taken 29.59 years and 32,122 miles of running to understand why I do it in spite of a bad knee. It’s taken me all these years to understand why I need to have my feet on dirt, whether a city alley or a mountain trail, and why I need to carry my belongings in a backpack and sleep outside in a tent often.
It’s taken me 40.42 years of playing the trombone to enjoy it as much as I do today. In fact, I realized just the other day that I’m playing sustained notes better than ever, I’m actually recovering some of my upper range, and I’m a better sight-reader now than I was in my New Mexico All-State prime.
Joyce Carol Oates wrote: “Nothing gets easier with the passage of time, not even the passing of time.” She’s correct; it doesn’t get easier, but it can get richer. It can be more fulfilling and more fun. All because of hope.
I’m an optimist - by choice. It’s because of Christ in me, the hope of glory, that I can chose to be an optimist rather than a cynic, which is much easier. It is because of that hope that I still run, that I still love, that I still play. It’s because of hope and optimism that I served 12.10 years in city government, and will continue to look for significant ways to give my life away. It is all about hope … like Cyndi said.
Scott Douglas once gave this advice in a magazine article in Marathon & Beyond to readers who were afraid to train for a marathon: “Just slip into some running shoes, put one foot in front of the other, and enjoy the experience of being alive.” That’s right – enjoy!
So Cyndi was correct. Saying that I’m simply trying to be graceful as I age does not represent my heart, no matter my motives for saying it. My heart is happy that I can still do the things I enjoy. There will come a day when I cannot run, when I cannot backpack, when I cannot play music, but it isn’t today. Today I am grateful to God for each adventure and for each song, and I relish the experience of being alive. I’m hoping for lots more.
