When I got into my fifties (just a couple years ago) I mentally still felt much like a kid.  I didn’t feel all that different than most any other time in my life.  However, the number that represented my age started to perplex more than I would have guessed.  Many people my age were grandparents.  When I met people my age with a less healthy lifestyle, my thought was often “damn you look old”.

I guess I must have been muttering about this more than I had realized because all of a sudden Mary tired of the mumbling and gave me two books about how young 50 is.  One was “Spring Chicken” and the other was “Fast After 50”.

I trained hard and raced hard for many good reasons, most of which were centered around the social joys.  However, I had been noticing a new motive gaining space in my motivation corral.  As long as I was kicking butt and winning races, I must not be old.

This all occurred to me after a good racing night at our Tuesday night go kart racing series, my new hobby.  I was fastest of our little group of 3 friends, which was made up of Jeff Govro, Jeff Sona and myself.  This comprised the fasted 3 amigos of our larger group.  I managed to get 3rd fastest lap time for the track, for the week.   Then I realized that I’m doing it again.  As long as I can race well and kick butt racing something, anything, I must not be sick.  

All in all, I think that this is a fine strategy.   

After go kart racing,  I think that the people in olympic ribbon twirling better prepare themselves for some tough competition.      After that?    I might need some suggestions.