With Age Comes Pain

I went running last night. I skipped the gym and just ran out the front door and kept on running until I got to the park. I ran once around and then did sprints up and down a soccer field. Then I ran around the park again and ran home. That's 4 miles not counting the sprints. My knee hurt and my tailbone was complaining a bit (I broke it when I was 10.) My muscles felt fine, but all my joints now seem to think that running is some sort of major crime against my body and so they complain very loudly about it.

This morning I came into work limping and dragging along. I complained to a 43-year-old coworker that I have pains that don't even relate to running and don't make any sense, such as this sharp stabbing pain in the area of my shoulderblade. Why the hell would I have a stabbing pain under my shoulderblade from running?! Anyway, do you know what she said to me?

"Steve, you're only in your twenties. How can you be in that much pain?"

Let me say this again because I like hearing it.

"Steve, you're only in your twenties."

Yes, that's the part I was focused on. There are still people in this world who look at me and think I'm in my twenties. I hadn't thought it possible, what with my body clearly having decided that I must be an old man in his 50s or something. I mean, I don't look anything like I used to. But people used to think I was in my early twenties back a couple of years ago and I thought that was great.

Then I had my first knee surgery and it all started to fall apart, as if my body was trying to make up for the missing years.

I didn't think anyone looked at me now and thought I was in my twenties anymore. I'm so glad someone still does. I'm SO glad.

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