50th Birthday Hike

Seems everyone is turning 50 these days.  Makes sense that my friends would be my same age.  All this time I thought I was so young.  Turns out I’m as old as they are.  In fact, some of them are younger than I am, by months!

UnknownI went to my friend Hope’s 50th birthday celebration this week. Hope Edelman was a writing group partner of mine and has been a good friend for years.  She chose to invite a bunch of women friends to climb a mountain with her on her special day. What a brilliant idea, not to mention beautiful. The day was perfect. We hiked in the Topanga State Park up behind Santa Monica with the Pacific Ocean as our view.  We hiked about 2.5 miles in, up to a giant rock formation which we climbed, then turned around and took group photos.  Unknown-1

A day spent with old friends and new. Some of the women on the hike were friends I hadn’t seen in ages because I live 3 hours away, but we picked up our conversations right where we had left off. What books we were working on, what new work we had in our computers. This is what I love about women: we bond, we climb mountains together, both proverbial and physical, and we gather old friends and introduce new. This is what I love about getting older: we savor our friends and we add more friends as we go, and we have more confidence at the top of each of those mountains.

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I’m 50.011 today.

I’ve started a blog.  Here it is.  I never figured I’d be any good at blogging, and I still don’t.  But I did figure it might be fun to document my 50th year.  And to talk about aging.  Image

I love getting older.  Since I was 8 years old, I’ve wanted to be 70. Now, here I am at what some might call middle-aged, and what I definitely consider the middle.  I plan on living to be 100.  That’s all there is to it.  I may be wrong, and the proverbial bus could leave grease marks on my torso tomorrow, but I still have my calendar marked up through 2064.

I do know that getting older isn’t all cartwheels.  In fact, I’m pretty aware that cartwheels are out of the question.  But then, I was never very good at cartwheels, even in 4th grade.  And that brings me to all the things we no longer have to care about.  Let’s talk about those in this blog.

I don’t want to blather on each day, but each day I put down a thought or two.  I’m making a commitment to write a daily paragraph (or three) on the ups (and downs) of the first year (at least) of  the other side of My Hill.  This is the downward slope of being Over the Hill, after all, and as an avid hiker, downhill can be a respite from the climb, but other times a steep balancing act.

Let’s see how long I can keep this going.  I’m 50 4/365ths.  Everything is possible. Pretty much.

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