At Your Age
Posted by adamswife on January 18, 2008
The doctors keep using this phrase to me recently. At my age? What about my age? They make me feel as though I’m 95 when actually I’m not quite 59. Maybe they’re all dyslexic – they read the chart and think 95 instead of 59.
The reason I bring this up – I was just contemplating the inequities of metabolism. My son-in-law evidently has a very high metabolism. Everything he eats turns immediately to energy. He is 6’2″ tall and weighs around 145 pounds soaking wet. (I was thinking I should have posted his picture for the theme “Skinny” last week.) I, on the other hand, have a very efficient metabolism. Everything I eat is stored against a time of famine. I’m sure that “at my age” it has become even more efficient than ever.
Another thing: S-i-l never has the urge to overeat. He eats when he is hungry and stops when he is full. He cannot be tempted by yummy treats to take even one bite too many. While I find food to be one of life’s greatest pleasures and indulge in it as often as possible. However, in recent years I find that if I eat that one bite too many I end up with stomach pains, bloating, and other such unpleasantness. This is where that phrase comes in – is this a function of “my age”? Do I have to forgo the pleasures of food as well as the pleasures of sex because I have passed a set number of years? Oh, the injustice of it all!
And even with not overindulging because of the resulting unpleasantness, my body maintains its efficient storage of nutrients. “At my age” you’d think I might become somewhat less robust-looking. Not so. The smaller portions forced upon me by “my age” don’t make a bit of difference in my physique. I’ll see you on the other side of the famine. Perhaps when it’s over I’ll be thin again. Even “at my age.”