Thirty-Something.
Now that I have a firm hold on my mid-thirties, I find a peculiar phenomenon taking place among my cohorts. They are magically able to appear as young as 25 or as old as 45. While some of us are still lithe and fit others carry beer bellies and ponches, close to two decades past our physical prime, the annual three pound weight gain is taking it’s toll on many of us. There are wrinkles and gray hair and receding hair lines and interesting middle-aged fashion choices. There is also a tendency towards either much older or much younger behavior, those who cling to social circles much younger than themselves and those that have adopted a world-weary way of interacting. I can only conjecture as to the cause of this discrepancy, and must assume that genetics plays some role, but what appears to be going on is that our lives up to this point, are decidedly catching up with us. I can tell who has spent too much time in the bars or out in the sun and not enough time in the gym or getting a decent nights rest. I can see the tracks of worry and hard living etched across faces and have watched friends go grey after a single hard year. The tolls of life come due early, it’s up to us to take good care of ourselves because really, at just halfway through our thirties, we are still young and have a long way to go.
Some conventional wisdom on staying young at heart and looking it:
Eat well, but not too much.
Exercise.
Sleep.
Drink water.
Laugh.
Have hobbies.
Spend time with friends.
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