Last year, I wrote a post about starting to feel old before my time. Back then, I wasn’t sure whether lockdown had played a part but now I am. Eight months on and still restricted to the confines of home, I definitely feel that lockdown is enabling my middle-aged tendencies. The Easter holidays have made …
As far as perceptions of age are concerned, I’m officially over the hill. I turned 40 last year and, despite some claims that it’s the new 30, I’m yet to feel it. Particularly of late. I don’t know whether it’s because of lockdown fatigue creeping in, the cumulative stress of seven years trying to move …
My 40th birthday is now just six months away and, although I know it’s not really a big deal, it’s a constant in my mind. And my knees too, for that matter. That is to say that, while I’m still as fit and active as I was ten years ago, I’m really feeling it these …
I quietly turned 39 a week and a half ago so it’s about time I start my 40 before 40 challenge. As I’m late to my own party, perhaps the first item on the list should be to become more organised. I counter this suggestion by pointing out that my birthday falls at an inconvenient time …
I’ve been busy planning my 40 before 40 challenge this week. It’s something that I’m really looking forward to doing – even though some of the things I have in mind are really going to take me out of my comfort zone. While reading other blogs and websites for inspiration, it struck me that I’ve …
Seven years ago today, I wrote a post about not feeling as young as I once did. It started with a magazine landing with a thud on the doormat. I’ve written a couple of other posts about age since then, but this one is the official sequel. There are a couple of reasons for this. …
They say that you’re as old as you feel. Whoever ‘they’ are. That being the case, I think I’m currently significantly older than my years. For the record, I’m 37. And, as anyone who has watched Monty Python and the Holy Grail knows, that isn’t old. However, thanks to a combination of factors, I feel …
Last week I found myself sitting in a church hall populated predominantly by octogenarians. You know the kind of place. It was cold, gloomy. It had unforgiving plastic seats and posters that defiantly perpetuated the use of clipart from the Windows 95 era. I was the youngest person in the room by at least 30 …