I have great respect for the elderly. They have a wealth of experience and the fruit of wisdom borne from years of revelation and reflection. Many have lived through tumultuous decades; they've lived through wars, changing political/economical/social/moral climates, and celebrated life and death several times over, welcoming new souls birthed and grieving old friends and family that pass away.
There is perspicacity in eyes that have observed seventy years on earth.
On Monday night I was privileged to interact with one of our elder citizens. I was leaving the gym after having finished an amazing workout. Included in my workout was two miles of interval runs. For non-runners, it simply means that I am on the treadmill for about twenty minutes and every other minute is really, really fast. Because this run is so short and my brain is so focused on setting the correct speed, the time flies by. I usually end up working hard without suffering the mental challenge runners sometimes have to endure. It is a rewarding end to my day; I feel accomplished, healthy, and I probably step off the treadmill with more than my share of swagger in my step.
There is something about feeling amazing about yourself and life that makes you freaking love everyone around you. The sun shines brighter, Macklemore is always on the radio (I still love Thrift Shop, I just can't help it*), and Tim Horton's finally sponsors your blog but pays you in free Iced Capp for life. (Am I underachieving in my imaginary Utopian life? Please don't answer that.)
I was in this state of mind as I was leaving the gym. Contributing to my "I just kicked that workout's tush" attitude was the mild temperatures that have finally embraced the calendar's idea that it is spring. As I was exiting the fitness center, I decided to hold the door for a woman entering with a toddler. As she thanked me I noticed another person not too far away and continued to hold the door because the weather was gorgeous and I was flying high as the best athlete in the history of the world ever
As this elderly woman drew nearer, I opened the door. She looked me up and down and said, "Have you been running?"
See? Elderly people = totally wise.
I answered, "Yes, ma'am. You can tell?"
She replied, "Yes, well, you really smell."
Old people. Yeeaaahhh.
*extra story for free = I really love the song Thrift Shop and maybe once or twice my children have totally on accident heard the radio friendly clean version
BAHAHA! And I love that your daughter got all suspicious of businesses. Reminds me of how my cousins used to get their daughter to stop temper-tantruming in restaurants by saying, "If you don't stop crying, the manager's going to come and ask us to leave." Until she woke up in the middle of the night one day, screaming that The Manager was going to get her. ;)
ReplyDeleteThat's awesome - more parenting done right. I would capitalize on the whole thing and make it work for me outside of restaurants as well - "The Manager" will also tell Santa if you've been naughty, right?
Deletehahahaaahahaa! And I love me some Thrift Shop! I'm gonna pop some tags ...
ReplyDeleteAnd it will never get out of your head, right? Oh Macklemore ... :)
Deletegotta love the old people! I can't believe what pops out of their mouths sometimes....always makes me miss my grandma...
ReplyDelete"I wear your granddad's clothes, I look incredible"...thanks, can't get that out of my mind now!!
I can't wait for my "Old Lady Liberties" to show up and allow me to say whatever I want. And Thrift Shop in your head? You're welcome ;-)
Delete