There are those “A-Ha” moments that grip you resolutely, cementing a disdained fact into your head you've long been ignoring. I had one last night as I tried to shovel out that embankment the city plows so graciously build at the end of my driveway, and yours. I was whacking away at it, noticing my breathing and heart rate were climbing. Well, so what. Shoveling is compared to running on a treadmill by most doctors because it's that taxing. I kept at it till that “Oh Holy Fuck!” moment arrived. I had to stop and catch my breath and get that heart rate below 130.
I know enough to do that but I had kept slugging away till my body was ORDERING me to stop, and it will get it's way whether you like it or not. The last time I ignored that was on the slope of Mt Willard, when I was trying to keep up with a kid half my age. I was huffing 'n' puffing and my pulse, I could hear in my ear. It was banging that hard. So, I hung onto a tree to calm down and tried not to get more dizzy because the trail below me was at 40 degrees and filled with 70 yards long worth of rubble. Falling down that might be a problem.
I
lean against the car, cooling it when I see the 30 year old “kid”
across the street shoveling his walk. He's slinging snow left and
right, making good progress and not slowing down at all. He's not
dizzy, huffing or doing fast math in his head about pulse rates. He's
probably thinking about that girl he saw running the register at the
Quickie Mart. Sooo, I get back up and into the game. I'm not being left behind by him!
As I shoveled, I was thinking about how long a rescue would take to drive through this mess to jump start my heart.
I “thought" i had things in hand and as I attacked that pile of snow but I can hear my heart in my ears and the smarter part of my brain, which I don't always listen too, tells me to sit down for a bit.
“Sounds like a good idea.” the dummo part of me says, in agreement.
I sit there and realize that my pride was pushing me all along. “You're not pushing 60! “You can do it!” “That kid over there ain't going to show YOU up!” “Hell, you climbed rock falls not too long ago!”
And it hit me, I AM pushing 60. I am so-called “old.” Not elderly but my age now ain't about keeping up with a 30 year old, even as I try to do so and worried how I might look if I couldn't. As a younger man, if someone did something, I had to do it better, faster, higher and stronger, if I could. I'd at least fight for it and sometimes I'd win too and gain all those puffy chested bragging rights. It easily explains my humping up New Hampshire mountains not too long ago.
I sat there and further thought, “Not anymore kid...You get AARP mailings twice a week. You have to nearly turn your whole body to see over your shoulder as you drive. No more just turning my head. Now if I try that, cervical bones tell me they may snap.
I got curious, so I looked up, “Shoveling After 55” on Google and every site I came across offered this medical advice....”NO!” A blurb from Beth Israel in Boston had a doctor complaining about how many of us come across his table after a winter storm.
“Just don't. Everyone I see over 50 has some amount of heart disease, it's natural for most people even if they feel great. Accept the fact you may need to hire someone to do it or at least, get a snowblower that's self propelled.” he advised.
A friend of mine, who had no obvious symptoms of heart disease and felt his cardio was exceptional due to a life time of playing tennis and trying to get “seeded” in various tournaments (and did many times, even the Australian Open), dropped dead in his bedroom. Cause? Cardio atherosclerosis. Otherwise known as “a heart fully clogged up with fat, cholesterol and goo.”
That crept into my mind sitting there...so I go inside and peeled off the winter clothing and told myself, “You're gonna take TWO days to shovel out.”
I am surely letting go of my youth with a fight. Age gracefully? Fuck that! Well, my pride doesn't get to make certain decisions about that anymore...and being found frozen in a snow bank doesn't appeal to me, even if I'm nicely preserved by the cold.
The kid across the street will have to compete against another old fool hanging onto his pride.
I got the snow cleared, taking two days...and that's OK. I will proudly fight aging with something else, I'm sure knowing me.
