This past summer, I had my first bout of passive middle-age injury: My shoulder started hurting one morning, and since I figured I just slept on it wrong, I assumed it would go away eventually -- until I was in so much pain that I could barely sit still for more than 2 minutes. I ended up getting neck and back adjustments an average of twice a week for almost two months in order to move like a normal person again.
And so, there it was, just a year shy of 50, and my body was already reminding me of my limitations. Luckily, my memory is going a bit as well, so I've already forgotten the lesson of taking it easy on my muscles. Instead, I am practicing gratitude by getting out and about as much as I can, come what chiropractic care may.
Gardening has the reputation of being a good hobby for older people, and I don't get it. Tilling, planting, weeding, pruning, and plucking all take a toll on the body. Especially when you compensate for an unsuccessful bounty the previous year by overplanting and creating an overflow of produce that you have to give to your neighbors (left). Improv comedy isn't necessarily thought of as a senior pursuit, but it certainly keeps you young. Hosting an ode to moms for Mother's Day at Combustion Brewery in Pickerington kept me on my toes. And a quick-thinking prompt competition a la TV show Make Some Noise at MadLab kept my brain sharp. My final show with Meat Fish Produce (no relation to the vegetable giveaway box) was an "Art of Comedy" sampler at Wanderlust Studio (right).
For my funny finale, I sported someFontaines D.C. merch, a shirt from a concert where I definitely felt old. Crowd surfing and a mini-mosh pit had us seeking safety in the balcony (top right). The floor was much more manageable -- and age-appropriate -- at The Psychedelic Furs performance, where we were able to relive our youth without actually pretending we were young (top right). I have to admit, the sit-down-only "listening session" style of the Great Lake Swimmers show is starting to suit midlife me (bottom).
For the best mix of energy, nostalgia, and back support, we traveled north to see The Decemberists at Masonic Auditorium, where the crowd cut across all generations, from teens to octogenarians (left). We stayed at a friend's house in suburban Cleveland, swapping a good night's rest for some dog walks. Both our charge and the weekend were very tame, unlike a weekend in town a month earlier when we stayed up way past our bedtime to do karaoke at Corky's Place (right). Let's just say our song selections showed our age, and we left before the young'uns were even getting started.
I hate to pick on an icon, but Elvis Costello was looking a little weathered during his stop at Akron Civic Theatre (top left). Not sure if it was the venue acoustics or band chemistry, but something was off with the sound, so we left early. We headed back to our accommodations in nearby Cuyahoga Falls (top right), the cascades of which we gazed upon after lunch at HiHo Brewing Company and before a perusal of books and antiques at Jenks. When we passed by the former auto-parts store later that night on our way to kitschy quaffs at Tiki Underground (bottom left), the reverberations coming from the back-garage risers were better than those from the city-center stage (bottom right).
One way I maintain my youthful attitude is by being a devoted groupie for my favorite musician -- the drummer in the band Hollow Pines, aka my partner Scott. I was a faithful fan girl at his gigs for Wagnalls Memorial Library's centennial celebration (top left) and a fundraiser for The LunchBox at Sweet Harmony (top right). While they flexed their melodic muscles during practice at our house, I stayed spry by walking the circuit at Quarry Trails Metro Park, which took Bowie and I past an expansive dog park, a wooded cemetery (bottom left), and a refreshing waterfall (bottom right).
Although we were both panting from exertion, it wasn't so hot that Bowie and I dove into the creek pool. A few months later, after dodging swarms of midges on the Boardwalk Trail during a work-trip run at Maumee Bay State Park (top left), I would have loved to leap in Lake Erie, but I decided it was better to let the swans enjoy their sunrise swim in peace (top right). We let all the residents of Green Lawn Cemetery rest in peace (bottom left) as we lapped in the last rays of summer during a tranquil autumn walk amid its trunks and tombstones (bottom right).
By far, our most taxing hike was to the treeline of the Flatirons (top left). In perhaps an immaturely ill-advised move, we made a beeline to the park near Boulder, Colorado (top right), immediately after deplaning -- without giving ourselves any time to acclimate to the higher altitude. A couple days later, after the wedding of Scott's nephew, we made the more mature decision to trek the less-strenuous trails at Red Rocks Amphitheatre (bottom left). My shoulder, neck, and back felt just fine as we took in the view from a plateau of the Red Rocks and Morrison Slide Loop (bottom right). I was brought back to earth, literally, when my knees started aching as we descended back to the trailhead. Luckily, this time the pain dissipated without medical intervention.
