Four-oh

Forty really is just a number. I'm sure any kid half my age would consider me "old". More often than not I am called Ma'am rather than Miss, not that I'm knocking the sign of respect, which I have grown to expect from kids. And I'm certainly not in denial of my shortcomings. I can no longer pull all nighters. Sometimes I get really crabby and have a hard time getting over it (is this what I use to refer to as "crotchety"?). Things sometimes ache for no apparent reason. And I am obsessive about taking my vitamins every single night before going to bed.

Or could it be that I'm just more aware that I'm not invincible? If I don't treat my body well then it will respond with a big "Hey, what the hell are you doing to me?" Back in my 20s and 30s when I really didn't pay much attention to my health maybe the constant state of lethargy was the norm. I rarely feel that nowadays. Well, except when I do one of two things: over exercise or drink a wee bit too much red wine.

So as my 40th birthday came and went, I started to reflect on my 30s and what a wild roller coaster ride it was. But I also stumbled upon some photos taken of me four years ago that will forever remind me why I do all the things I do to stay in shape. Not denying the physical benefits of exercise (since most of us, including me, celebrate these benefits), but I remember myself when I was 36. I was miserable, depressed, and a bit lost. Even though I had three small children to care for, I felt like I had no direction in my life.

Nowadays some things are easier (I no longer have diapers to change and sippy cups to lug around), but our lives are constantly busy and on the go, which is probably why I am horrible at maintaining this blog. I think if I were still that "old me", I would still feel like I was running on that perpetual hamster wheel, with no end in sight. But what I feel now is contentment, even on the crazy days when my daughters decide to plan a fashion mutiny on picture day. Or when my son is sad that his dad went to Japan for two weeks. That's when I wonder how on earth I will survive the teenage years, since I foresee those years to be wrought with lots of drama and discussions.

But often I think about how I wish I could recapture those baby years again, poopy diapers and all. I was too lost in my black hole to really appreciate the simplicity of that time, when the demands of my kids were nothing but hugs and heart shaped grilled cheese sandwiches. Sometimes I wish for it, only to stop myself because I swore I would stop living in regret. Instead I try to focus on the childlike cuteness my kids still have, even when I feel like their tireless bickering is mostly about really stupid subjects (who cares of rocket ships exist or not!?). Their voices are still high pitched and sweet, and they still call me "Mommy". I learned that the years fly by quickly and soon everything is different once again. The difference now is I plan to relish it a little more, the good and the bad.

This week is the taper week for the Chicago Marathon. Just 4 miles today, then 3 tomorrow. Then nothing but rest and carb loading until Sunday. It looks to be a nice day, maybe a little warm for a marathon (mid 70s). When I was younger I used to be in awe of anyone who can run 26.2 miles. Now I'm convinced that anyone can do it as long as they stick to a schedule, eat well, and get plenty of sleep. The challenge actually isn't the race itself, but the 18 weeks leading up to this point. Perhaps the focus and discipline that was never there in my younger years, which is why I was dubbed the "smartest but laziest" amongst my siblings, is finally kicking in.

So let's see where this new decade takes me. But if anyone asks, I'm only 28. *wink*