Another Month, Another Thought.

I'm 37.

Damn it. I'm starting to feel the effects of aging. Not the "Oh my god, i have wrinkles!" sort of aging. I feel it physically.

I'm just coming off an intense work stretch of nearly two weeks of working without a day off. Long hours, long days, strung together. Lots of driving. I feel exhausted, not right, lethargic. In recent memory, a day off and I'd bounce back fine. Didn't need lots of sleep or pampering. Not so any longer. I need sleep. Desperately. So much so that I am choosing sleep over early morning spin classes, which really sucks incredibly hard.

I've been noticing my knees are stiff and achy more often than not. I have arthritis which usually appears in the winter months. It seems to have settled in on a full time basis lately. The shots I get in both knees usually last a full year. The shots had seven months of usefulness this year.

When I went away earlier in the month, I slept in a bed that wasn't mine. My back hasn't been right since. Granted, I was in a car accident nearly six months ago (when the hell can I stop thinking about the accident and all the ways it has impacted my life? Such a minor accident in the scheme of things, yet it has impacted more than words can say month after month.) Why would a different bed destroy my back? I'm fucking aging. And life is handing me very obvious signs, because I am known for missing subtle cues handed to me by my own self.

There is an end in sight to the work. They hired a full-timer. I'll be staying on until she starts and get her up to speed, then make my departure into the unknown. I hope to see a lot of hours in the gym and on the saddle in the second half of October.

Fuck, man, aging sucks.