Sometimes I think about my younger self and what I used to be like.
I spent so much time burying myself in food and hating anything even approximating exercise.
Now… I am a different person.
I pay more attention to what / how I eat.
More importantly (to me) is that I also really love working out.
Not just working out… But full contact, ass kicking, bad-ass working out.
Thing is, though… I am not a young thing anymore.
This is not me whining about being “old” or anything. I love my life more every year. I am not wishing for youth.
But… It makes me a little sad that I am past the point where I can participate in activities at a “competitive” level.
I see these AWESOME girls fighting MMA. And I know that while I certainly can participate at some level… I am beyond the point where I could physically hack it in any serious way.
For the most part, I am cool with that.
But I have sort of a wistful feeling about it… Like wishing your parents had made you stick with those piano lessons.
I think… Gee… If only I hadn’t spent the first 27 years of my life as a “couch potato”… I wonder what I might be capable of now?
If I hadn’t weakened my knees over 27 years… Would I be better now? Harder? Faster? Stronger?
Ah well. Everyone is built of their life experiences, and I would not trade the person I am now, or my life the way it is.
Just sometimes I guess we must all think about “what might have been”…