How to know how old you really are: Decide to tag along with a group of coworkers around half your age when they decide to take the stairs to go up 9 floors, and start with the premise that you can keep up with them.

I was taking the stairs 2 at a time and was in the middle of the group, until I hit the 4th floor, when every part of my body said, in unison, “OK, you’re DONE NOW!”

 

I was determined not to give up, and finish what I had started, walking very slowly up the stairs, one at a time… By the time I was at the 7th floor, the guys had left me far behind and were at the top waiting. I was having to take breaks every few steps, and thinking that I was (seriously) going to die in a stairwell…

 

Now I know I’m getting old, it’s not hard to miss those little pains that you didn’t used to have, and having your girlfriend tease you about becoming “Hage” (balding) ,”Debu” (fat) and “Gigi” (old man).  You can’t help but acknowledge it, but it’s easy to forget how much your body has changed until you do something stupid and really push yourself beyond your limits. 

I realized it when just taking a single step was slow and excruciating, and having to stop and catch my breath every few steps. No matter how much I wanted to move faster, by body would simply not respond.

I did make it to the top, and it took a long time to recover. After that experience I had a whole new perspective from when I started. When I began I thought of myself as just like them, young, vibrant and competitive. When I finished I was tired and humbled, but I was proud of my persistence and much more self aware.

I started wanting to win, and finished just wanting to finish, and I probably felt better making it to the top alive than I would have felt had I been able to keep up with them. and I guess you have to be old enough to be able to understand that as well.