That’s the title to a movie that’s running around in my head. Can you imagine signing up for ‘Loan me your life’ and escaping whatever it is that’s bugging/boring/depressing you – even if you borrow the life for a 24-hour stint?
Today when I woke up, I had the same type of thought I’ve had at least 2 million or so times. “It’s another day of repeat.”
What’s bugging you granny?
Life.
Some days it’s easy to get up filled with the fuel of living – especially when there’s a new project to undertake – other days it’s a repeat of a thousand repeats. I like it much better when I’m thrown into a vat of fuel and my whole being is absorbing the desire to live and create my environment. I’ve pretty much ditched exercise, other than a desert walk with Scout when the weather isn’t trying to blow us off the face of the earth, and I think that’s a very bad thing. Exercise promotes the energy vat. It’s difficult enough battling through the ‘old fart’s zone’ without adding depression and no desire to do anything.
Let’s talk the ‘old fart’s zone’ just for clarity. In May I will be eligible for Medicare; Hell…I can’t believe it either. But here’s the big downside to aging, you never know if those aches and pains that sneak up and slap you out into the middle of nowhere are aging or if you should hit the panic button and head for a doctor’s office. Once you’ve become accustomed to your foot feeling like someone’s stabbing a needle into it and the pain goes away and may not resurface there for a day or two…or it might come back to the same spot in an hour; coupled with pain stabs, jabs, and aches in other parts of your body. Or the fact that at some point in your day you’re going to feel like you simply cannot focus and when you give in to lay down for an hour, you really feel quite hollow, like you might pass out and not wake up…no…really! There’s no fear in that statement, it is what it is.
And that’s not even the mist floating in off the iceberg, there are a million more issues that come along every day. I live with pain. My digestive tract is fucked as far as I can tell – you’d think I’d drop 30 or 40 pounds right? Not so! It’s as if my metabolism left on the first flight out on my 60th birthday and it’s never going to return. I’m not butterball fat, but I’m fat. I hate it! I eat one third of the portions I ate two years ago and nothing changes – except I get older.
There’s no guide-book on aging and although there are a million websites out there that have doctor’s advice and forums, there still is no guide to let you know what you can expect as the years go flying by.
Life has a way of bluffing you right into the grave. When you’re under 30 you just can’t begin to conceive a glimmer of how your body will change at 50. The changes will be subtle at first and you won’t even notice most of them. At 50 even, you still are being bluffed (that’s part of being human I would guess, we are such suckers) as you convince yourself you’re doing pretty damned good for your age. Here’s the part that shouldn’t come into play “for your age.” We make comparisons that allow us to get sloppy and stop striving to improve our health and our lives because we’ve now been through most of the gristle and hard times of life and we figure we’re doing “pretty good for our age.”
Life is bluffing you into believing that it’s now OK to be a slacker with your health and fitness program because you deserve…key word…DESERVE to take it easy.
That’s completely flawed thinking. As soon as you start to give up on you, what was bad gets worse. So…I am starting my exercise program again.
I’m going to lay out my jogging bra, my aerobics shoes, my sloppy T and soft baggy pants, my workout gloves, my light weights, and start again. I’m going to do the workout at least five days a week and walk the desert with my dog at least five days a week. I do know how to lose weight and how to get in shape and I’m going to do it! I don’t want to feel like I shoved myself into a section of humanity that can’t figure it out. I remember a certain pattern I had that initiated the ‘work out’ zone in my head. That’s where I’m heading – building the zone.
So, having said all of that, I like the idea of ‘loan me your life’ as a book, a movie, a series. You would have to sign a contract with others that were willing to do the exchange and you could only borrow/exchange/loan your life for a limited amount of time. There would be different levels of loaning. High profile loaners with exciting/dangerous lifestyles and emotions might sell their exchange, while others might opt to just trade.
You would have to be responsible for your actions in the exchange. It could be very dangerous. You might be dying of a disease and want to go out in a blaze of glory as a matador, race car driver, super spy, or high limit poker player caught cheating in a Ponzi type scheme. *clears throat*
Of course you have to go to an exchange platform to initiate the sequence and just in case you did something really retarded like committed a crime or tried to get killed, the security system of the exchange platform could rewind to remove your borrowed life from harm’s way. But here’s the drama/tension part, what if an exchange platform gets blown-up while you’re in someone else’s body? Or…or…
Don’t look for “Loan me your life” to hit the box office any time soon.
You’re not old until some one says: “remember when you were young?” and you can’t.
Ten Mile – I do and I can. I don’t remember anyone extolling the wonderments of aging though. Do you?
Without trying to be smart mouth or anything; outside the personally noted failings of various body parts and considered actions, the problem with getting older is the youth not maturing quickly enough to recognize their age.
Agreed. It seems to be one of the major shortcomings of being human – that’s my opinion anyway – we rarely see the writing on the wall until we run into it head first.