Aging Well

06.22.07

My legs are a mess. I have various bruises and scrapes from different events that took place over the past week. Down the spine of my left shin is an interesting formation of scrapes created from my razor as it skittered down my leg. The right leg is festooned with a colourful bruise, well earned from the kick of an old lady. This little dear was a 77 year old who had become dehydrated from confusion, and, well, old age… Any way, I made her angry and she let me know it! Back to the left knee is an eggplant coloured bruise, about the size and shape of oh, say, a small tomato, at the knee. This one obtained from trying to artfully, and gracefully, climb over a little roof, on a climb that the Hubba and I went on this weekend. I had one good hand hold, no feet at all. Beta from the Hubba, before he ascended included the sage advice of, “ leaning back, so your feet will stick..”. Ok, So I lean back, on my one pumped arm and reach blindly, hopefully, with hope, trying to find …AnyThing.. to grab on to. Wait, what’s this, hold on, Sweet Hesus!, A little Grippy thing! Just the size for small weak fingers to grab on to. Great! Now I lift my left knee, Thunk, f*ck…Lift again, Thunk,f*ck, f*ck, f*ck… I feel the Hubba taking in the rope nice and ( Yipe), snuggly. I change tactics and bring the right knee waayy up and pull, pull pull, and the I’m up and over.
I can record the years of my life by the bruising on legs. Ten years ago I was trail running a lot. I would bite the onion about once a month. I don’t think it was because I was clumsy, I would just get really tired and quit lifting my feet up as high as they needed to go….ouch. Now my bruising is much more diverse. My life is so much rounder and dimensional then it used to be. As I am entering that magical age where women become invisible, you know, the late thirties early forties, I relish the fact that I still have enough fun in my life that my knees are scabby and my shins are bruised.