I keep starting posts about turning 40. Turns out, I did. I don’t heart it–milestone birthdays seem a challenge for me. But, you know. Jess threw me and two of my fabulous just turned 50 friends the really best 140! party you ever went to, so I suppose I shall survive. AND, if those ladies seem, like, 32 or something, to me, 40 is not the rushing toward death that I feared it would be when my mom got my dad black balloons and over the hill cards way back when, right? (seriously, though–pies and cupcakes and music and dancing and food and a pretty tent and perfect weather and wonderful friends, oh my!)
Then, Arden turned 11. ELEVEN. This feels … more than 10 (math: not my area of expertise. But, I do know that this is, in fact, true.). I think because, every time we see someone whom we haven’t seen all summer, they tell me how much he’s grown. And, it’s true. He’s been a string bean his whole life, and all of a sudden, he’s … not. He’s taller, yes, but he’s not a scrawny little dude anymore. He’s growing up. I don’t know. I was so surprised the other morning when he barreled into me in a hug at the not little kidness of him. Plus, in a little more than 2 weeks, he will be a middle schooler. Shit, man. I have a middle schooler. And I am 40. AND Trudy is starting Kindergarten. All of it is making me feel ancient.
It’s a year of milestones. A few months ago (did I write about it? maybe.) I hit the 5 years post cancer diagnosis milestone. To honor that, to mark 40, because I’m insane, all those things, I’m doing an olympic distance triathlon tomorrow. A hard one. A really not easy one. My friend John who used to race mountain bikes and do biking tours in Colorado kept saying (and I quote), “shit, Jill” upon seeing the hills on the bike portion. I’ve been training all summer, but people like me? We always feel like, in all parts of our lives, we could be doing more–more writing, more planning, more baking, more cooking, more more more more. I told someone yesterday that I’m either totally over trained or completely undertrained. One or the other. In any case, I’m nervous. Full of nerves. If I don’t die, I’ll come back and report on how it goes.