A good friend commented on my Facebook page today that I looked young while crossing the finish line in Sunday’s half marathon. What a nice thing to say. Interestingly, I was having just the opposite reaction, especially after seeing this photo of me taken by Melinda moments after I crossed the line. Other than the fact that I’m wearing contacts instead of glasses and therefore look quite a bit different, even to me, don’t I look a bit old? Wrinkles, gray in my beard, dripping water on my forehead…
Hey, I am holding my finisher’s medal, though.
It is a funny thing I’m experiencing at age 48, how I feel younger than I think I appear to other people. For instance, when I’m out in public, say in a grocery store, I see someone and think, “Oh, he’s probably my age.” Thinking about it later and talking to Melinda, I come to conclude that this “he” is probably under 30. Similarly, the people I think now look old are probably my age.
It’s like when I got to the age where all the Seattle Mariners on the team roster were younger than me. Is that some kind of milestone? Or the start of some kind of crisis?