My recent travel adventure to Scandinavia had me contemplating aging.
Made up of the oldest mountains in the world, the Lofoten Islands of Norway are an ancient, wild landscape of natural beauty. It’s as if the mountains of the Alps were cut off and plopped into the Arctic Circle off the mainland. My dream of having a home in the mountains and a home at the beach were combined here. There wasn’t much altitude because the mountains rose from the sea.
The main thrust of my adventure was hiking. I have plenty of experience hiking steep inclines, but in the past, these have always entailed paths of dirt. Here in Norway, we hiked on rock or mud. The trail was marked by paint and cairns, but without our guides, the group would have been lost. Most hikes entailed starting near sea level, climbing a 2000 foot mountain, then descending.
I noticed several things about myself on these hikes that gave me pause. First, I was constantly comparing myself to the others in the group. I have never been a slow hiker, so I was dismayed to find that I was the slowest of the group. OK, I was the next oldest too, but I am used to holding my own with the 50 year old crowd. And I was doing fine. I felt good—if I wasn’t comparing myself to the others. Why do I do that? Why can’t I just be content with who and how I am?
The pace was disconcerting, too, because I didn’t feel like there was time to enjoy the scenery as I would have liked. If I stopped to take a photograph, I would have to run to catch up to my place at the last of the line.
I knew that the descent would be difficult for my knees, so I had packed and used my knee supports. Even with that accommodation and the use of hiking poles, I find that my knees are still sore one week out as I write this.
This hiking adventure was the first time I had to admit to myself that I am aging. I’m not as old as these mountains, and my time here on Earth is a speck in comparison to theirs, and I am wearing down much faster than they are. For the past couple of years, I’ve noticed that I can no longer squat, and I have difficulty getting off the floor without using my hands. I know that this is normal aging, but I don’t like it! I am contemplating seeking a consultation with a physical therapist to work on these two skills.
Too, a month ago, a bone scan revealed osteoporosis. I wasn’t too surprised because both of my parents are being treated for this condition. It was still disheartening, though, considering all the walking and weight-bearing exercise I do.
I have been blessed with good health all of my life, in part due to genetics, and in part due to good health habits. That cannot halt the aging process though. We all get older, but there is something funny/sad about entering my geriatric years while licking my ancient, creaky knees as the mountains laugh at me.
After I work on these knees, I’ll work on my acceptance of the inevitable.