Thursday, August 25, 2011

Oh My God...I'm 40.

When you're young, you really don't have any concept of age, y'know? Time passes, and it passes so, so very slowly...God, I remember when getting through the 4 months from my birthday to Christmas seemed like a decade. A week of school? Torture.

Of course, old was OLD. Thirty seemed like a million years, and forty? Hell, my Grandfather was FORTY!!

You never even suspect that you'll be that old, ever. I don't know what we all think is going to happen, but the concept, the idea of spending four decades on this ball of mud just seems...unthinkable. It's weird how easy it is to live in the moment when you're young, and and how impossible it is when you even get a little old.

I make a lot of jokes, I do, but I'm not OLD. Yet, I'm not young, anymore, either. That's for sure. Just ask my body every night when I get home from The Double.

Aches.

Pains.

Groans.

Yeah, that's life. I've probably been rougher on my body than most. "Oh, throw myself across the stage? Sure. You need me to drop to my knees 45 times during this rehearsal, and we don't have pads? OK." I've tended to throw caution to the wind, and rely on my ability to recuperate, and to work through the pain.

But that doesn't last forever, oh no, it does not. I suppose it's a bit of a cruel, cosmic joke, having my 40th coincide with the most physical show I've done in a long while. The real pain of it is...I love being physical. I love getting rough and tumble, mixing it up.

And, let's be honest...It's only going to get worse. There's no magic wand or surgery to make me feel 20 again.

But that's not the worst part.

And, please know, I'm not writing that in a "oh, woe is me, I never did the things I wanted to" voice. I'm OK with my life. I have regrets like everyone, that's impossible to avoid. That said, I have done well, I married a good woman that I love very deeply, I have made my effort to live my live in the most creative way I could. I have tried to create, and leave a little bit of myself for others to enjoy/think about/reject. I set out to live my life so that I could be artistic and creative, and I have succeeded.

BUT...

Yeah, it will always nag at you. It comes down to...Is this all there is? When you're 20, 25, 30...You have your list of  things you'll "have time for later?"

You won't. You'll put things off. You'll decide something's "too hard," or is too much of a burden, too much of a sacrifice, to give yourself over to, and years later realize you should've just done it. Even something as simple as going to SDCC. I first went when I was 35, but I wanted to go when I was in my teens. If I'd focused myself, controlled myself, and made choices that were directed at my goal...I could've been going for 20 years, rather than 6. That's just a stupid convention.

Why haven't I gotten the tattoo I keep talking about? How simple is that to get done? It's always some show, or some other stupid damn thing.

Why don't I lose weight? Hell, if I just stopped shoveling nuts down my throat after rehearsal, and just went to bed, I'd probably lose 10 pounds. I'm proud of the commitment I've made to staying active and exercising, but I know I have to commit to changing how I eat, too.

No, I'm not beating up on myself, I'm not. It's just unavoidable. You live four decades, and the regrets will pile up. The trick is to keep them in the right perspective. I've done plenty to be proud of, but I also feel like I can do more. Push farther, reach deeper, and generally give more of myself.

When I stop feeling that way, then I'll worry....

2 comments:

  1. And calm down, folks. We got him kneepads.

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  2. Yes, the lack of knee pads was a different company, in my dark past...not the fine BWB folks...

    Sorry for any confusion.

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