Younger than I’ve ever been

You’re older than you’ve ever been,
And now you’re even older,
And now you’re even older,
And now you’re even older.
You’re older than you’ve ever been,
And now you’re even older,
And now you’re older still.

Time is marching on,
And time is still marching on.

“Older,” by They Might Be Giants

I realized something today: I am younger than I’ve ever been.  I mean, sure, TMBG are technically correct when they say I’m older than I’ve ever been.  But other than actual chronological age, I am definitely the youngest I’ve been in my adult life.

I played softball tonight.  I am 36 years old, I’ve had two back surgeries, and I used to weigh 400 pounds.  But I played softball tonight, like I do every Wednesday night, and I feel great.  I am not fast by any means, but I move pretty well out there.  I am one of the older guys on my team, but I don’t think I play like an old man.

And now I am sitting in my bed, blogging on my laptop, and I don’t have a single ache or pain.

When I weighed close to 400 pounds, I would come home from softball and feel miserable.  My ankles would be screaming at me.  My back would be threatening to kill me.  I’d spend the next two or three days walking around like an arthritic old man.  I loved playing softball, but nearly every week I would question whether it was really worth it.

But now I am young again.  I was talking to a kid on my team after our games tonight, and he was surprised to learn that I am 13 years older than him.  He never knew me as a 400-pounder.  He has only known the healthy version of me, and this version doesn’t seem like an old man.

This version of me is younger than I’ve ever been, and tomorrow I’ll be a little bit younger.