The joys of ageing
Saturday, January 28, 2012 at 10:54PM ‘TESTOSTERONE’ blares the headline – letters heavy and red and three centimetres high. It’s a full-page advertisement in the Sunday Age, mostly addressing problems associated with ‘male menopause’.
Okay, this isn’t going to be a rant asking why we have Viagra and still no safe, reliable drug to treat morning sickness or PMT. I am quite capable of such rants, but gazing at this ginormous ad last weekend made me reflect, instead, on ageing.
These days, there are a plethora of articles, books, lectures and clinics aimed at retirees. Glamorous grey haired couples walk along the beach holding hands in ads about everything from low testosterone to retirement funds. The aged, it seems, are no longer content to disappear into unsexy support roles. They want to live life to the full, and entire industries have developed to help them do so.
I’ve been thinking about ageing partly because health-wise, I’ve found the last 12 months confronting. Apart from regular, ferocious headaches, my body has seldom let me down. Through 35 years of adulthood and four babies, it has remained fit, well and pretty much the same size and shape.
Over the last year, however, things have changed. Symptoms that would have been cheerfully ignored in years long gone are investigated exhaustively. ‘Hmm, you’re at that age when it just might be cancer…’ the doctors say.
And things are starting the wear out. A knee injury that stubbornly refuses to heal (and in my fifties, I find things heal really really slowly) has meant eliminating the long daily walks that keep me not just fit but also comparatively balanced, sane. Eight weeks with precious little exercise and the consequent weight gain make me feel, well, middle aged. Not quite me.
The bits that are wearing out fastest, it seems, are the ones I rely upon most for my daily exercise routine. Not only my knees but also my feet are demanding attention. Plantar fasciitis, the painful inflammation of the tendons on the soles of the foot, can be excruciating. I feel like the little mermaid in the story who was condemned to suffer the sensation of walking on knives for the rest of her life.
Since I became aware of this condition, I keep meeting other women who can barely walk when they get out of bed each morning. One I met recently agreed with me that apart from the aches and pains, everything else was better. We felt wiser, calmer, happier, enjoying our grown children, our mellower husbands, the unexpected turns our careers had taken.
‘When you think about it,’ I said, mulling it over, ‘our bodies probably aren’t meant to last this long. Until the last hundred years or so, we would most likely be dead by now.’ I could have added that in some places we still would be, but that’s another issue.
Maybe the hyper-awareness of menopause (male or otherwise) and the burgeoning literature on how to cope is a new phenomenon because until recently, not many people managed to live long enough to experience it.
So, whenever I feel like complaining about my aching feet and semi-functioning knee, next time my GP sighs and signs me up for another uncomfortable and expensive batch of tests because I’m ‘at that age’, I’ll try and remind myself that I’m lucky to be old enough to have things start to go wrong. Basically, things still work pretty well. And coping with the sore bits is better than the alternative.
Reader Comments (6)
Ah yes- I do relate to what you say, being in the same club! Knees, feet, backs, frozen shoulders and so on- where did that smoothly functioning body go that I used to be able to take for granted? It is like when i was first pregnant and suddenly, other pregnant women and baby shops, previously invisible, seemed to be everywhere. Now I keep coming across others with similar middle aged issues- nice to be able to share it! And as you say, good to be alive and still active enough nevertheless. Because we can't go at it in quite the same pace as before, I like to think that there is a grace in needing now to adopt a gentler stride upon the earth.
I even feel things more at 25 - the teenagers in my soccer team seem to bounce back a lot quicker than I do, and after the first day hiking I'm really sore. Thanks for the post, I've missed them over January.
Welcome back Clare - I've missed your posts too.
With my four children now (largely) independent I'm now entering a new, and I think exciting, phase of my life. The death of a work colleague late last year though brought reality into brutal focus.
We just need to enjoy this wonderful life, the gift of our creator.
And not creak too much when we get out of bed in the morning!!
Welcome back to the blog after the holidays Clare. I cannot avoid giving advice on this one. Having been through a similar experience I have found that one needs to develop adaptive skills and find new ways of maintaining the body. Have you considered going back to swimming? Bike riding and even a specifically designed gym program can help you maintain fitness while resting the sore bits. Sometimes that rest allows you to recover more use of the former hurting bits. Even Yoga might be a help in maintaining the core fitness that holds the creaking old frame together.
But don't give up writing!
I'm now a subscriber! I am looking forward to hearing your thoughts and catching a glimpse of your insights. xx
What did Leonard Cohen sing? "I ache in the places where I used to play" ?
Something like that.
May we somehow find pleasures within our increasing limitations. And as you say, we should be so lucky.