I'm going to run a marathon! (in ten years)

One of my New Years' resolutions was "Get in Shape." I don't have very high aspirations -- my hope is to get rid of the belly that can no longer be attributed to just having given birth. When you're slinging a newborn, people understand the belly. But now at eight months post partum, people see my belly and think "my you've been busy!" Of course they are always too polite to ask when the new baby is due.

My other resolution was "Get Shit Done." Well, it's April and my shit is all over the map still, so last week I decided to join a gym.

The first day there was a bit of a downer. I'm uncertain why the elliptical machine needs to know my age, but as I pressed the age button up....beep beep beep beep beep .....BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEp beep beep beep beep BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BBBBEEP BEEP BEEP beep beep beep beep beep beep ... all the way up to thirty seven, it suddenly dawned on me: I'm Thirty Seven. THIRTY FUCKING SEVEN.

The last time an elliptical machine reminded me how old I was, I was only 34. Solid early thirties. Two babies and several years of sleep deprivation later and I'm thirty seven. Not thirty-something, not mid-thirties, but solid late-thirties. In fact I'm staring down the barrel of the big Four-Oh! WTF? Or as the kids say, OMGWTFBBQ?

And my next realization (a glimpse in the mirror helped me with this one): I'm a goddamn mom! I'm a mother. Of two. There's no hiding it. I have the trademark fleshy middle and the gray hairs. And now I've got the "who gives a shit" gym wardrobe to boot: blown out black drawstring pants, tech-company t-shirt, and black socks. Yes, black socks at the gym and I'm not German. The funny thing is, catching a glimpse of my dorked-out self in the mirror just made me chuckle. As I've asked before, can a woman who has given birth really be embarrassed by anything?

So where was I? Oh yes, being shocked at the realization that I am, in fact, OLD.

Like I said, I'm not running to the beauty counter, hair salon, or Dr. 90210. In fact, I'm feeling pretty OK about it. Maybe I'm just that secure, or maybe it's the mental justifications I've worked out.

Ways to feel better about your age:

• there will always be obese, lazy or otherwise unhealthy twenty-somethings who are in worse shape than you.

• there are people your age who are running marathons. So, theoretically, if you wanted to, you could still get in shape and be able to run marathons.

• there are people older than you who are running marathons. So, theoretically, you could sit on your ass for a few more years, then get in shape and be able to run marathons.
  

and my personal favorite:

• you could get hit by a bus tomorrow, so get over it and enjoy what you've got today, regardless of age. this argument also includes points like "I knew a guy who died in a tanning salon fire at age 19" (true story, stop laughing at that).

I'm not sure how the marathon points work once you've hit 90, 92 or so. I'm not sure how old the oldest marathon runner is. Gotta look that up.