“You’re as old as you feel” is what everyone would love to believe. However, it’s not always true. This morning I was stiff and sore after a couple of awkward falls on the ski slopes a few days ago. I suppose that just being out there at age 67 was a small sign of rekindling my youth. The fact is that my balance is beginning to suffer. Even when I run in the morning I sometimes feel like I’m staggering, as my feet want to take me in a different direction. I know that from talking with older friends that this will only get worse. There was even a brief moment as I passed underneath a basketball net where I wanted to jump and see if I could at least touch the net. Sadly, the force of gravity just seemed too much to even try.

I was pushing our hundred-year old schnauzer in a stroller while my wife walked our youngest pup on a leash. We call it our “Schnauzerthon,” where we take turns with each pup, while I try to get in my three mile run. Believe me, that 50 extra pounds of stroller and dog is a lot of extra work, especially when I’m running uphill. It’s a relief when it’s my turn to go solo or even unsuccessfully try to convince the leashed pup to keep up with my pace. I’m very fortunate to still be able to do these things at this age. In fact, the other morning I watched an age-peer struggle to get around his neighborhood on a walker. Hopefully, he was just recovering from knee or foot surgery, and it was not a permanent condition. Nonetheless, I felt guilty running by him, even despite my slow pace. I watched as he bravely persisted in completing his journey.

The reason we use the stroller is because aging Tinker can’t keep up with us any more. We let her out for the last part of our stroll and watch her slowly waddle home. At least she’s not hobbling like she was a few months ago. Despite her age, she still has no trouble with input and output. This is why we call her “The Poopingist Pup on the Planet.” When I take her outside, I rarely hook up the leash anymore, she simply does her duty and waits in the garage for sister Tally to delay the outing as long as possible. No extra steps for Tinker anymore, while Tally is not trustworthy without being secured to a leash. Before my decision to grant Tinker leash independence, I felt like I was constantly in a tug-of-war, since they both headed in different directions at different speeds. Just as the guy on the walker, it’s tough to watch Tinker grow old. She used to chase a tennis ball with vigor, but the other day she didn’t even respond when one rolled by her. As my mother used to say, “getting old ain’t for sissies.” She apparently stole that line from Bette Davis.

A few weeks ago I spent three days in an assisted living facility visiting my mother-in-law. She is nearing her 98th birthday and can’t hear, see, or walk. It’s sad to watch her waste away, along with Tinker, and not help but think that my turn is coming soon. I’m doing my best to stay young by running and skiing, but you “don’t underestimate Mother Nature! In a fight she always wins.” Mother Nature was sitting on me this morning, and wouldn’t let me out of bed. She was on my shoulders when I thought about jumping for that net, and was nestled next to Tinker in the stroller I was trying to push. She also must have tripped me on the ski slopes, with this subtle reminder: Even though it was a beautiful, “spring” day on the mountain, you’re no longer a “spring” chicken.