Tuesday, April 24, 2012

Boo hoo. . . . .

Boo hoo . . . .. . .

So I hate that I'm turning 30. I'm not the graceful person that embraces ageless beauty, nor the grateful person that claims to have the best life ever and no number could bring me down. I do have an awesome life and great friends and family, but I'm still turning 30!   Who wants to leave their twenties? The decade of partying, beauty, endless opportunity, a road with a hundred paths to turn on, the decade of college, finding yourselves, and the last decade of your true youth? Am I the only person that properly values the twenties?

The first time I cut my hair super short, the first time I truly had a good time and just let go. Experimental jobs. College classes that I miss dearly. The college lifestyle of leisure and learning that I seem never will be replaced. Drinking beers at Royals games, being a hundred percent spontaneous, decorating my bedroom with magazine pictures, wearing odd new clothing styles, knocking over one personal challenge after another. Living alone in the cutesy apartment.

Okay, so I know I'm being too focused on the past. My crisis is driven by multiple factors and the loss of a lifestyle as it sinks in more and more that I am really settling down. The timing of everything along with the 30th birthday probably makes the age seem more than it is. And many of the things I listed can still be done in the thirties, right? But does anyone actually continue to do so? Come on ppl, help me out.

Each day I realize how old I am in another way. This week, it was the mere shift of my regular routine to include a morning workout. Suddenly I am a morning person!!! It feels great! But it also depresses me. Does that make sense?

Well, I can at least end this with the announcement that I have met most of my 30 day challenge goals. Yay. Sarcasm. . . . .I beat my mile time of 9:40, with a time of 9:31. I'm pretty sure that I ran a 9:25 a couple months ago. I did ten decent pushups this morning. I listed mat exercises to add to the routine and enjoy doing them. My plank is weak but I'm getting there.

It feels blah. There is a relief that I met my goals, but not a huge sense of pride or accomplishment. More so the sense of giving in. I'm no longer resisting. I'm getting old. Ugh.

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