My father died thirty-nine years ago at the age of seventy-six.  There are many wonderful stories that I could tell about him, but today I am thinking about him in terms of aches.  I don’t know how old he was when he started answering “How Are You Dad?” with “Arrgh, I ache all over.”

Tonight, after dinner, I was standing at the sink. The dishes were in the dishwasher, but I still had to make a marinade for tomorrow’s dinner and a lunch to take to work.  All I wanted to do was sit down. I ached all over.

Is this my future, aching all over? 

Recently, I noticed that when I stand for a very long time, my back hurts.  And sometimes, if I overdo my exercises on the foam roller, it’s pretty painful.  Not to mention the pain after too much time sitting at my computer.

Still, I broke my temperature record biking to work earlier this week.  Normally, I don’t ride when it is under 26° degrees. But although the thermometer said 21° degrees, the sun was shining and it was supposed to warm up later. I didn’t regret my decision for a minute.  That would have impressed my father, but to me it meant I still can do almost anything.

I’ve heard people my age say that if you wake up in the morning and nothing hurts, you must be dead.