I'm 41. That's a bit crap. It isn't as crap as being 51 or 61 etc, but it's still a bit crap. Like, I suspect, many people, I often catch my mind, which has been rambling merrily away, stuck on a problem: 'that can't be right!' whichever part of my brain it is that maintains our sense of self (the right frontal lobe apparently) seems to be saying, 'you aren't 41...this is some kind of mistake.' It isn't.
That all sounds a bit melodramatic. After all, I have a great life: a wonderful wife, two amazing kids, a good job and I'm relatively fit and healthy (more of that later). But still 41 - that's my Dad's age. Except of course it isn't as he is now approaching 70.
Being fit and healthy is great. When I was at school I did loads of sport - rugby mainly. I picked up a few injuries here and there, but nothing major. The one thing I did notice was that, after hard games, I was ruined - the next day I could hardly walk. During the game I felt great, but after... I didn't play much rugby after university. In fact I stopped playing sport full stop and forgot that I would be hobbling round on a Sunday while some of my mates would be playing their second game of the weekend. I took up running with my wife a few years ago. It was brilliant. I loved it...until the next day when I couldn't walk. My wife would ache for a short while immediately afterwards; I would feel fine. Next day she would bounce out of bed; I would crawl. We started open water swimming - great. Then we had an interesting experience in the sea that was a little too close to drowning than was comfortable. We do jujitsu and if you have ever been run over, you will know roughly how my body feels after that.
One thing I did continue to do from my twenties to very recently, was ride a mountain bike. In a strange reversal, cycling hurts while you are doing it, but doesn't hurt afterwards. I loved mountain biking. My wallet hated it. It isn't just the cost of the bike itself - that's a one off thing, deal with it. No, the worst thing about mountain biking is listening to the sound of grinding winter paste in your components, slowly killing them. The bike(s) started spending more and more time just sitting in the garage in various states of mechanical disrepair. I gave it up and sold them.
So I bought a road bike two years later - this summer in fact. I'm sitting here waiting for it to arrive in the middle of this week. It's very likely that I will throw myself into this with the same stupid intensity I do everything new. I might try and learn from my mistakes, but it's far more likely that I will start wearing Lycra, join a cycling club and want to race. I am not shaving my legs. Let me repeat that: I AM NOT SHAVING MY LEGS! I'm going to commute to work (we'll see how long this one lasts during the winter!) and ride as regularly as I can.
I'm hoping that the health benefits will be noticeable and that I can exercise without pain. I'm going to try some health products (I haven't decided what yet) and see if they can help me turn the cranks so fast that time reverses and I can stop being 41.
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