By design, most of our days are beyond pleasant. Upon retiring nine months ago we decided that life was simply too short to spend time on anything that isn’t fun. We made a vow to enjoy each and every day to the fullest doing everything and nothing all at once. With more time on our hands we’ve been able to focus even more precisely than ever before on healthy living. I guess that is why day 287 of the Nowhere To Be Project was such a shocker. It is never good when your physician sends you directly from his office to the bookstore to retrieve the following title: “How Not To Die” by Michael Gregor, MD!
Of course, I protested…
“But, I’m vegan!”
“I’m not overweight at all!”
“I Peloton almost daily!”
“Clearly, you’ve swapped my file with someone else’s!”
and, my personal favorite…
“It’s almost Christmas for Christ’s sake!”
Despite my honest and authentic proclamations of clean living, I was informed that my healthy practices just aren’t enough. Sometimes, bad genes are a thing and that (FRUSTRATINGLY) is my reality. Without going into too many gory details, I have to radically change the way I’m doing things if I hope to make it to senior citizen status. The most overwhelming part of this is that I must lose over one quarter of my body weight as soon as possible (Did I mention that it is almost Christmas?). With a normal weight and current BMI of 25, this will be a Herculean challenge. Basically, if it isn’t whole and unprocessed it cannot enter my mouth.
I’m angry and feeling sorry for myself as I envision my “picture of health” 88 year old mother-in-law delighting in Spam washed down with straight gin. Her bestie made it to 97 years despite choosing beer and potato chips (over plants) for dinner each and every night. I, on the other hand, cannot ingest any sugar, processed carbohydrates, oils, alcohol…ANYTHING WITH FLAVOR! Not fair, but not completely the end of the world, I guess. I am alive! I am retired AND travel constantly (about to head off for two months of RVing on the west coast)! My kids are happy and healthy!
I have vowed to “follow the rules” of my doctors and BE GOOD until I reach the “F-it Age”. I would define this as the age where daily living becomes a celebration of still being here (including food and drink). In other words, those relishing life in the age of F-it live exactly how they want regardless of the potential detriments they may be causing themselves. Some live their whole lives this way without issue. Others never color outside the lines. For me, I think that the “F-It Age” will be 67…the age at which my mother died. Anything beyond that is icing on the cake of life, and I intend to have that full-fat icing sweetened and served with a side of lovely French champagne.
What is your “F-It Age”?