For seven years, I wanted to surfbut didn’t.

I told myself it was too hard, that I was too old to learn.

A little fear was part of the thrill.

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Then, in my mid-30s, that illusion of immortality vanished and the smallest trace of fear felt threatening.

Yet I did not want fear to own me.

It wasn’t romantic love, but better.

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He told me to look fear in the eye and say, ‘Thanks for having me.

I’ll come again.’

In reality, I got a head dunking and some very clean sinuses.

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I could handle that.

‘You have to trust your body,’ he told me.

So I borrowed his trust in the hope that I’d find my own.

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Finally, I stood up, riding all the way to the beach.

Fear, it turned out, was more of a coward than I had imagined.

I had been the one giving it power all along.

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I’d always assumed my 20s would be a time to find a life and settle into it.

After Josh’s death, I felt lost.

I was a rudderless ship, then a rudderless ship with a baby.

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“To survive my new single-mom role, I had to adapt.

I started small, learning to make a meal or two.

(Cooking wasn’t so bad, after all.)

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I realized that, with time and patience, I could learn to do almost anything.

Before my son, Kai, had his first birthday, I completed my first Olympic-distance triathlon.

When he turned 2, I single-handedly assembled his big-boy bed.

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But that’s only a matter of perception.

I see my age as a percentage of awesomeness.

I’m 28, so I’m at 28 percent awesomeness.

(Think of all I can learn in seven years.)

So you’re able to call it aging.

I’ll call it evolving.

I’ve always gone enthusiastically.

But now I am 78, and I will have to buy a new bathing suit.

I thought, Gee, this used to have shape and substancelike me!

Why couldn’t my family have chosen a mountain for this reunion or, even better, a city?

“Of course, I could stay home.

I could observe the sporting life as it passes me by.

But I won’t.

I will look at my 70-year-old sister, Susie, and grin.

Together, we’ll watch the grandchildren, so joyously alive, just like the two of us.

“Water ballet, directed by Susie, is a long-standing family tradition.

It’s girls only, and participation is required.

My sister will wave a graceful arm: ‘And up and back,’ she’ll say.

The floral skirt of my new suit will billow across the water as my sister exhorts, ‘Take hands!

We will, producing a geyser of water that will catch the sun and make its own rainbow.

‘Grandma,’ she’ll shout.

‘Come get me!’

Participation is definitely a requirement.

‘Watch out for Grandma!’

‘She’s trying to get us!’

How could I even think about passing up an opportunity like that?

I envied how her life seemed set yet exciting, every choice her own to make.

But the only person who really lays down the law with me is my dentist.

(I’m not so great about flossing.)

“Sure, there are developments I never anticipated (insomnia, for one).

Most useful: Curiosity trumps all.

It’s more fun to be surprised.

If they looked as weird as Cher, fine, but they don’t.

Yet every time I’m close to calling a surgeon, I take a giant step back.

My character is stamped on my face.

I’m not about to let a doctor mess with that.

As far as I was concerned, I looked and felt as if I were 30.

Part of me had started to develop a crush on that male intern.

Now I did a quick calculation and realized that ‘middle-aged’ meant ‘sexually invisible.’

At least to a 30-year-old guy.

“Once I got over my shock, the real surprise set in.

The great thing about getting older is that instead of having fewer choices, I have so many more.

‘You’re 49?’

the girl said, incredulous, too young to know what 49 looked like.

My friend pulled me behind a sales rack to complain about my obsession with trumpeting my age.

‘Why must everyone know?’

“The reason is simple.

It’s because of a promise I made to another friend back in 1981.

He was 31, talented, loving and incredibly sexy in a leather jacket.

His life ended long before time could line his pale cheeks.

I promised myself I would never complain about my sheer luck at having the gift of another day.

That’s a promise I hope I get another 40 years to keep.

“Brett Paesel

Anti-Aging Workout