Age is one of those things you can’t escape. Like the slow drift of the continental plates, it’s going to happen whether you want it to or not. It was one of the things that fascinated me as an RN. To see a consistent population of people, usually in their 60’s-70’s, who manifested their apparent age wildly different. A 70 year old who still rides bikes would be in the room next to a 60 year old who looked 90. Why such a difference? Why do people age at such different rates? I got to thinking about this because I’m currently reading a book on evolutionary anthropology (don’t ask) and was very intrigued when I ran across this quote:

“How old would you be if you didn’t know how old you was?”

Leroy Satchel Paige

Unless you were born into the Hadza tribe in Africa or maybe grew up in some weird religious cult that didn’t celebrate birthdays – you know how old you are. But what if you didn’t? What if all you could go on was how you “felt”. I don’t think I look like my actual age. Sure, I’m starting to sport a little bit of gray here and there but not much. I have friends who are younger than me who are almost entirely gray. I probably don’t dress appropriately for my actual age. Plenty of shorts and flip flops. I had to break down and go buy a sport coat a few months ago for an event because I didn’t have one. Without knowing what people really think, I’d guess that on appearance alone I look maybe five years younger than I really am (maybe that’s wishful thinking).

How I feel is much different. The impedance scale I use calculates out my metabolic age based upon weight, body fat, BMI, etc… It thinks I’m four years older than I really am. Probably correct given my current conditioning. I’ve also reached an age where I have a never ending series of aches and pains. A rotating litany of things that hurt. An old shoulder injury. Legs and knees that ache from five straight days of skiing and mountain biking. A weird foot pain that won’t go away. My body certainly knows it’s not twenty any more.

Mental age… that’s hard to say. Somewhere in my late thirties maybe (again, maybe wishful thinking). I still think I can do all the physical things I used to. Perhaps most important, I still want to do all those things. I’m not quite ready to give it all up, head to back porch and just watch sunsets. Slightly contradictory, I’m also starting to feel a maturity of thought that I don’t think I had before. It’s hard to explain. While I’m not very good at expressing it, my brain seems to explore thoughts on multiple different levels unlike what it did when I was ten or more years younger (that could also be the nightly bourbon making me feel wise). I’m not as quick to jump on whatever the conventional wisdom of the day is, like when I was younger. If someone makes a claim about something, I’m much more inclined to wait and see before believing it. At the same time, I find myself having a much stronger sense of right and wrong in the things I do believe. I suspect with age comes a decreasing need to care what others think.

I don’t know. It’s an interesting thought experiment. I hope I’m one of those guys who’s still riding bikes when I’m 75. Not just for the physical component, but to still have the desire to be out there enjoying life at that age. I hope I’m still able to make a cognizant argument about some world event when I’m an old geezer and not just be a grumpy old “get off my lawn” guy.

I wonder what makes people age. Is it diet? Exercise? Mental stimulation? Are some people just born with a zest and curiosity for life that others aren’t, or is it something that you cultivate on your own? Excluding disease, is there there something I can do to hold off aging or is it just luck of the cards I was dealt?

How about you – how old do you feel if you didn’t know when you were born?