name="postBody" rows="17" cols="47" id="textarea" wrap="soft" tabindex="5" dir="ltr"><span> I had a shock last week so startling that I was immobilized for the rest of the day. A group of us were talking about age. Unfortunately, the rest of the group were all younger than me by anywhere from 5-30 years. Before I knew what I was saying, I blurted out that I would be 60 in July. It was the first time I had actually verbalized that fact. I was shocked. There was silence, and then sympathetic looks all around. I have always tried to be realistic, but that was a gut shot that I had not expected out of myself. I knew this was coming. A man that I don't even know called me "young lady". My husband looked confused when I told him about the insult, and naively suggested that it might have been a compliment, but I know better. These are the condescending things that people start saying to people my age as a well-meaning gesture of kindness. It's like that first time some twelve year old at the checkout counter or the ticket booth looks at you, pops her gum, adjusts her nose ring, and says, "Do you get the senior discount?" It's the waitress who says, "And what can I get for you dear?", and pats your shoulder. And, the 18 year old doctor who starts his sentence with, "At your age. . . ." And, the first time you realize that you don't recognize any musician or group since 1980, and who are these people at the Academy Awards? And, you mention Jimmy Stewart to a group and they don't know who he was! Someone asked me recently if I could still run. Sounds funny, but I didn't know. All our lives we sort of took it for granted that we could run. We ran as kids, we ran after our kids. But,for a long time, I haven't had any need to run. Sure, I can run. I waited until no one was around, and then trotted up and down the back sidewalk a few times. The first thing I noticed was that the hips moved funny now. You might say-stiff. Next, I wondered if I could skip. To the amazement of our dog, I skipped through the kitchen, the family room, and back to answer the phone. My husband was calling from work. "You alright?" "Yes", I wheezed, "I was skipping". There was silence. He didn't ask. Hey, we are the "Pepsi generation", the boomers, the hippies, the flower children- (well, I wasn't exactly, because I'm from a small midwestern town, and were really rural). But at least we were "way out" there in spirit. We were going to find ourselves and change the world. At our 40th class reunion a couple of years ago, where the people you remembered in your mind had been replaced by people you didn't recognize at all, the chairman looked at all of us and said "what happened to all those years?" Where did they go? Anyway, for my own survival and others, I have started to compose some rules and guidelines for myself. Suggestions from other boomers welcome. Rule 1.- Realize your age, but don't dwell on it. My grandparents never mentioned their ages. I don't think they noticed, or if they did, they didn't pay any attention to it. A lady I know, who is about 70 now, ran her first marathon, sky-dived, and bungy-jumped all after her 60th birthday. Last year she climbed Mt. Kilimanjaro. She said, "never limit yourself by thinking about your age first". See, I am way ahead of her already. I don't want to run a marathon, sky-dive, bungy-jump, or climb a mountain. I just want my knees to work, both going down to pick up something and coming back up. <div id="twitter_div"> <h2 class="sidebar-title"> </h2> <ul id="twitter_update_list"></ul><div id="twitter_div"> <h2 class="sidebar-title">Twitter Updates</h2> <ul id="twitter_update_list"></ul> <a href="http://twitter.com/lighthouselenna" id="twitter-link" style="display:block;text-align:right;">follow me on Twitter</a> </div> <script type="text/javascript" src="http://twitter.com/javascripts/blogger.js"></script> <script type="text/javascript" src="http://twitter.com/statuses/user_timeline/lighthouselenna.json?callback=twitterCallback2&count=5"></script> </div> <script type="text/javascript" src="http://twitter.com/javascripts/blogger.js"></script> <script type="text/javascript" src="http://twitter.com/statuses/user_timeline/lighthouselenna.json?callback=twitterCallback2&count=5"></script> </span>