At some point, each of us decides to set aside the things of a child and pick up the things of a being with weak knees and occasional shooting neck pains. Often there’s a watershed moment. (“Mark the date and time. That was my last roller-coaster.”) More often, the decision is gradual. You find yourself going on more hikes and fewer trail runs, or you’re easily talked into biking on a slow rolling, recently surfaced trail instead of that root-and-rock-strewn path through the woods. The one you used to love. Before that wrist thing happened.
As youngsters, we view these impending moments of transition with some anxiety. As older folks, we’re often less apprehensive. And with good reason: first, we are, frankly, a bit nicked up. Second, riding on a paved trail holds its own joys and challenges. Ditto for cross-country skiing and snow-shoeing and hiking. You’ve wondered about them for years. And now it’s time to try them.
But the transition isn’t smooth. Sometimes we resist putting aside the things of a child or young adult, and no one can or should tell you must. (Although the vision of a 50-year-old beer gut pushing against the frayed spandex of an old downhill racing suit is haunting). Sometimes we move too soon: we set aside those running shoes only to strap them on again a year later. (We have three close friends who purchased shiny new hybrid bikes—with more upright geometry and what are euphemistically called “adult comfort seats”—and quickly regretted the decision. Which required several months of discomfort, discontent and a gradual laying of groundwork with a spouse before coming home with an expensive new road bike.)
Sometime, we are caught in the transition for a few years, alternating between aggressive sports and pursuits with a reduced potential to maim us. This process is portrayed in Catherine Nelson’s very nicely written Guardian piece about trying to pick up cross-country skiing when she’s not quite done with snowboarding: “[N]ow, at 42, I worry I’m just a low-slung boarder pant away from being a poster lady for midlife crisis. Add a dodgy left knee, which throws a hissy fit after even a gentle run, and I’m considering regretfully consigning my snowboard to the cobwebbiest part of the loft and embracing a more sedate mountain activity.”
Spoiler alert: by the end of the story Nelson has uttered all the expected pleasantries about the wondrous winter scenery that can be viewed while skate-skiing through the countryside. And she’s returned to the terrain park on her snowboard. Enjoy the rails, Catherine. Check back in ten.
Photo of cross-country skiing in Kananaskis, Alberta (Canada)by Glenlarson via Wikimedia Commons
