Aging and fitness

   The bottom line is that there is no escaping it.  We all get older.  As you age, you have to make a choice.  You can choose to accept it and whine.  Or you can choose to accept it and work around it.  There are advantages to getting older.  For one, with age comes wisdom.  In my 20's, I had low self esteem.  In my 30's, I was a workaholic.  In my 40's, I focused so much on being mom, I forgot to focus time on "me".
   So, here I am, older and wiser for all I've experienced.  Think about it.  When you go to the doctor for an ache or injury, what's the first think they say?  They ask, "Where does it hurt?"  You know your body better than anyone.  You know, before you even visit that doctor.  You may not know how to treat it, but you have spent years and years with the body you now wake up to every day.  So, I ask you...what works for you?
   I was active duty Army.  In the Army, everyone ran.  We ran everywhere.  We ran in formation.  It was not only healthy, it was motivational.  Heck, my husband still runs on the treadmill singing cadence he learned in his Army training.  For some, running made them feel at one with the world.  It was an opportunity to clear their minds.
   Right at the beginning of my military career, as far back as the early eighties, my knees hurt.  I did what every soldier did.  I went to sick call.  Over and over, the doctors and physician assistant's would give me ibuprofen, and tell me to take a short break from running.  For more than twenty years, I did what I was told.   I'd take that break, then return to the same work outs...and the same pain.  Maybe they thought I didn't like running.  Maybe they assumed I was just attempting to get out of something.  I don't know.  I really wanted to be like the others.  And even though it hurt, I really wanted to love running.  In time, I convinced myself it was all in my head.  Until, one day, I signed in to a unit where to doctor actually looked closely at my knees.  He declared one knee unstable, recommended the other be checked to.  In the end, running on injured knees not only caused permanent damage to my knees, it injured my back.  I went through another painful surgery, but it had proven too late.  I was told no more running.  They said I was done.  Because of my naivety, my ignorance, I'd paid the price.  Why hadn't they listened?  They had left me with nothing, no plan, no workable fitness routine, and now, I was forty years old.  What was I supposed to do?  Lay on my couch and pop pain pills for the rest of my life?  I wanted advice.  I wanted someone to tell me what to do, where to go for help.  
    I had to pull myself up out the hole I'd dug and soldier up.  With all that I'd gone through, I'd gained something valuable.  I'd gained wisdom, wisdom of experience, wisdom of age, and now, I had outside resources.
    Now I know what I can't do.  I know what I can.  I choose to focus on the "can".  No running.  Fine.  I'll walk.  No more deep knee bends.  Fine.  I'll stretch.  I'll lift weights. There is still pain, but I know my body.  I know its limits.  I know what hurts.  I know what feels good.  I'll try new things (like ice skating or the batting cages).  I'll rediscover the old things I did in my youth (I'll jump rope).  I will play with the kids.
    I can, I will...feel like a kid again.  After all, age is just a number.  It's all in your attitude.  You know what? I'm not done.  I can rebuild myself.  I have the technology.  I have the internet.  I can be Steve Austin, Jamie Sommers...stronger, faster, better.  I can be the bionic woman...well, minus the machinery that is.  
   And so can you...