New Perspectives on Aging: Accepting It's All Downhill or Looking Up Instead?
Changing our Perspective on Aging.
As my husband rounds the corner of another decade, we consider the ways in which life has changed. Focusing our attention in the right direction can make these milestone birthdays more meaningful. What is your perspective on aging and can you benefit from a new outlook?
Lessons from biking.
I’ve figured out why they call road bikes “road bikes”.
As I ride along in my most comfortable, neck-neutral position, I’m staring at...the road. I take in the cracks and crevices, the potholes, road-kill, and other obstacles. To see what’s in front of me, I angle my spine at the neck as far back as it can comfortably go. Then I’m aware of road signs, other riders, and oncoming traffic. When things are calm I glance left and right at my surroundings to take in the lush green cornfields, late-summer wildflowers, and neighbor’s front porches.
After a minute or so, my neck muscles tighten and I’m looking down again. My road bike, with its narrow tires and ram’s horn handlebars, is designed for smooth, paved roads. By design, it also forces my eyes to stay focused on the road. And that’s okay.
But there is another way. My husband is the one who showed me.
Looking down.
Tom turned 60 last week. I’m not far behind. Like anyone who enters a new decade, he heard all the familiar quips and jabs.
It’s all downhill from here. Are you feeling washed up? How’s the view from over the hill?
And these, from his birthday cards:
You’re not old, you’re vintage. (Okay, you’re old too.)
Why party when you can nap?
Except for the palatable pleasure of a “vintage” bottle of wine, none of these images of aging excite me. In fact, they often mirror the way I feel about the aches, pains, and general fatigue that comes with aging. (Is it naptime yet?)
We cringe at the thought of getting older. We yearn for our younger selves. Be it our flexibility, energy, strength, physique, or wrinkle-free skin–parts of us are fading.
It’s interesting that two of the phrases above refer to looking down that proverbial “hill.” Like the typical stance on my road bike, looking down at one’s wheel on the road or your feet on the path steals the glimpses of beauty that surround you. And yet, many aspects of aging do cause our eyes to look down. Our bodies’ depreciation keeps us focussed on ourselves and our problems.
Looking up.
Tom could have let one such affliction bring him down. When an old back injury forced him to cut way back on biking–his favorite pastime–his spirit hit rock-bottom. For over a year he took only short rides, often giving up his sport altogether due to pain. He saw several medical professionals and short of surgery (which is still a possibility), tried many treatments with little relief.
Throughout the pandemic, as he worked from home, he would have loved to spend his saved commute time out riding. But like the rest of the globe, he was forced to Slow. Way. Down.
So he went walking instead and on his walks, he spent time in personal reflection. Together, we signed up for a book study at church on Sacred Rhythms: Arranging Our Lives for Spiritual Transformation (by Ruth Haley Barton). We talked to each other about our prayer life, scripture reading, and sabbath rest, among other spiritual habits. The pandemic coupled with one of the blessings of aging–an often empty nest–gave us more time to focus on matters of the heart and mind. And together, we learned to have patience with our aging bodies.
Back to biking.
Still, Tom couldn’t shake the desire to get on his bike. He started talking about recumbent bikes and trikes. These unusual machines are a conglomeration of gears, wheels, and very long chains that allow the rider to sit back rather than lean forward as they ride, taking the strain off of the back and neck. After missing nearly a year of biking, Tom approached me with his idea during the winter. I was in favor of anything that might spark some joy back into his life.
As spring approached, the hunt was on. Like everything else during the pandemic, bicycles (including the recumbent style), were in short supply. We drove a couple of hours west to Chicago to test-ride some recumbent two-wheelers, which I nixed after seeing Tom wipe out a couple of times. I suggested he look at trikes instead, a recumbent style that has gained popularity over recent years.
The most common type of recumbent trike is the “tadpole” which has two wheels in front and one in back making it more stable than its two-wheeled predecessor. After test-riding one, Tom decided to go for it. But finding one in stock before our annual Minnesota vacation in July was another challenge.
He searched the internet and found one in Dearborn, Michigan. We made a day of it and drove three hours east to pick it up. As they fitted him for his new wheels, I could sense his excitement at the prospect of riding again. The roadblocks he had encountered over the past year and a half were dwindling away.
From roadblocks to hurdles.
Still, there were hurdles to jump. For starters, we needed a way to transport this monster “tadpole”. Because Tom bought a folding model, it did fit inside our SUV. But, it filled most of the car, leaving no room for other luggage. We already own one bike rack, designed for two-wheelers, so the thought of investing in a new rack that would fit his trike (and my bike) seemed extravagant.
“This new kind of biking was a lot of monkey business for a simple ride. We wondered if biking was worth all of this.”
With a little ingenuity, Tom devised a way to get his three-wheeler, along with my two-wheeler, on our current rack. (I won’t go into the tragic saga of how he thought it would work best if he removed the rear wheel and in the process of putting the wheel back on, managed to snap off a part of his new trike within the first twelve hours of ownership. Suffice it to say, he was a basket case until we brought it to our local bike shop where they fixed it within a couple of hours for a nominal cost. Whew!)
Our rack-hack worked like a charm and we arrived safely in Minnesota, bikes on board. Tom was anxious to get out on his first ride on the Migizi, one of our favorite trails near our resort. Knowing he wouldn’t be able to ride the whole loop on his first run, we planned to go to the campground–a spot with a parking lot, near a more picturesque part of the trail.
With the car now unpacked, he removed the bike seat, folded up the trike, and put it inside the car while strapping mine to the rack. Just getting ready for his ride was already way more time-consuming and hassle-laden than jumping on a two-wheeler and taking off. I could sense Tom’s frustration.
This new kind of biking was a lot of monkey business for a simple ride. As we drove on the washboard-gravel road to the campground, leaving a wake of dust behind, we wondered if biking was worth all of this. Arriving at our start point, we unloaded our bikes, unfolded the trike, reattached the seat, donned our helmets, and applied bug spray. It was finally time to ride!
A new perspective.
A couple of miles in, I asked, “How’s it going?”
“Not bad,” he said. “I’ve definitely got a new perspective from here!”
“How’s that?” I asked.
“I can see the trees and the sky!”
He did look comfortable–sitting in a reclined position, taking in his surroundings. I admit I was envious. The trees on that trail are my favorite. From white birch flanking our pathway to the tall pines reaching for the heavens, the trees remind me of a Presence and Power far beyond the pedals and predicament of our present moment.
While I could look up at the trees for a moment here or a few seconds there, I had to crane my neck to do so. Tom, on the other hand, had the freedom to look up longer and to soak in the beauty of the world around him from a more relaxed position. To notice the azure skies and downy clouds beyond the prickly needles of the pines. His new perspective allowed a vantage point he’d never seen on previous journeys.
Getting older can be a nuisance. There are hassles and frustrations that run our daily lives amok. Our time is often consumed by circumventing roadblocks. Only to face more hurdles.
Thankfully, getting older also offers an ever-widening viewpoint. As our lives and responsibilities change, we spend less time staring down at the road and more time sitting back, looking up, and taking in those amazing views.
Grateful for the years.
Riding the trike and taking it along on road trips has become easier with practice. (Maybe you can teach an old dog new tricks!) Today, as we set off for a visit to our up-north kids, with bikes and gear on board, the song People Get Old by Lori McKenna was the first one up on Tom’s playlist. A recent favorite, it reminds us once again to be grateful for the passing years.
Houses need paint, winters bring snow
Nothin' says "love" like a band of gold
Babies grow up and houses get sold
And that's how it goes
Time is a thief, pain is a gift
The past is the past, it is what it is
Every line on your face tells a story somebody knows
That's just how it goes
You live long enough and the people you love get old.