"I feel as old as yonder elm." James Joyce.

            One of the most significant discoveries I made in my advanced years is exactly the cause of my “feeling old.”  When I moved, I felt old.  When I walk my joints would ache, my back would tighten, and my breathing would get more strained.  If I sat still none of those things would happen.  Exercise was the big culprit.  After exercise I always felt old, so I cut that out entirely.  I can sit in front of my computer playing games or writing down very astute thoughts for hours – not moving anything except my fingers on the keyboard – and not feel old at all.

            This revelation – the more I thought about it – made a lot of sense.  Why would evolution create an old person whose mobility was a source of discomfort except to discourage us from moving?  We’re not going to win a 100-meter dash or drive in the Daytona 500.  Even swinging a golf club (God forbid) can be painful.  Why do we need to move?  We should be the source – given our decades of experience – of great wisdom for the tribe.  We should be able to sit underneath the piñon tree (I was born and raised in New Mexico) and offer wise observations without even bothering to get up.  Things like – “You should replace the printer cartridge before you really need to print something.”

Besides, if you insist on keeping yourself fit, that just means when the grim reaper comes you’ll hang onto life longer – racking up those hospital bills and extracting resources from your family, friends, and neighbors.  Better to fail early and often.

Besides movement, a major source of feeling old is women.  Looking at a shapely lass walking by as you lean on your cane and drool on your bib is a real downer.  It brings back memories – many of which are, no doubt, fallacious, but still…  So don’t move and don’t look and you’ll avoid feeling old.

© 2014 Lester C. Welch