Standing Room Only

When did it happen? I know it didn’t happen last night. Maybe I just noticed it last night, but I’m sure it’s been a gradual change. I got old. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a senior citizen yet, but I’m also not a young, hip adult anymore either.

Last night Mark and I went to see Tegan and Sara in concert. Tegan and Sara are an indie band starring identical twin sisters. The music is great—just my style. Mark introduced their music to me—and when he told me about the concert I pictured sitting at a table with a glass of wine listening to some nice, folksy music. I’m a morning person, so I typically don’t go to concerts—especially an hour away—during the week. But this seemed pretty mellow, so I thought, “Why not?”

When we arrived at the pavilion I realized the setting wasn’t quite what I had pictured. It was a fairly large pavilion—with no seats except for a balcony—and those seats were long gone. It was standing room only. By the end of the second opening band, I was in Hell. I had been standing a good part of the day because of a work event. My shoes were cute, but totally lacking any support. My heels hurt and back ached. Plus, I’m short. At 5’2” I couldn’t even see the stage. All I could see was the back of the person in front of me.

For awhile I took comfort on the edge of a bench I found along the wall. But after a few minutes, my tailbone was killing me from sitting on a hard surface! As I gazed around the room I watched all these hip youngsters with their stylish clothes and funky haircuts swaying to the music without a care in the world. That’s when it struck me—I’m old! I’m not a hip, 20-something, dressed in stylish clothes with a chic haircut. I’m 39-years-old, it’s past my bedtime, and I have a big event at work tomorrow that I need to be alert for.

When did this happen? When did I become an old fuddy-duddy who worries about work the next day? And what’s with all the aches and pains? I don’t want to be old yet. I want a hip haircut and a closet full of cool clothes. I want to sway to the music without a care in the world…don’t I?

Part of me does. Part of me was so envious of those young ladies. Part of me wanted to be back in college so I could do it all over again—maybe even do it a little differently—be a little more free.

Part of me doesn’t. I’ll be 40 this summer, and I’ve lived some pretty good adventures. I’ve run eight marathons, competed in numerous adventure races, and have experienced some adventures many would never dream of trying. I’ve lived in Washington, D.C. and California. I’ve owned my own company (not a profitable one, but mine nonetheless). And at 38 I met and married a wonderful man (it took me awhile—I’m very picky).

I’m a grown woman, and I’m not suppose to look like a girl anymore. And at 39, I still have a whole list of goals I plan to accomplish. When Tegan and Sara finally hit the stage, I managed to stand on my bench—despite the aches and pains—so I could see the stage and enjoy the music. I slept the whole way home and feel like road kill today. But that’s okay. My work event was a success, and all that’s on the agenda tonight is an easy run, then a glass of wine on the couch.