Feeling My Age

Originally posted on February 14, 2015, by cruisingrunner

Two days before my 43rd birthday, we went to the Adrenalin Forest en route from Tauranga to Rotorua. It’s basically a ropes course with six progressively more challenging levels. The first course is about 3 meters high at most, and the sixth course gets you way up into the trees at over 15 meters high. Luckily, none of us has any issues with heights. You complete as many levels as you can in the three-hour time limit, and you can stop at any time if you feel you’ve been significantly challenged. Of course, if you stop in the middle of a course and need to be “rescued” then you are done for the day and, as far as I’m concerned, have a huge shame to live with. Early in the course, the thought of having to be rescued never entered my mind, but in the middle of the fifth level it was the sheer desire to NOT have to be rescued that got me through a few of the harder challenges. But I’ve jumped ahead.

Brenden, my youngest son (12 yrs), was excited to try it, and luckily he just squeaked above the 1.45 meter height requirement to be able to attempt all six levels. Alex (13 yrs) was obviously plenty tall enough but wasn’t too sure he wanted to do it. We insisted. Tim and I were just happy to be doing something active and fun with the boys that wasn’t a hike, because they’ve gotten quite sick of hikes, which makes hikes not too fun for the rest of us either.

The first three levels were a breeze, and I popped off to the boys about how we were for sure going to be able to do all six levels in the time limit, no problem. We were having so much fun. Then came the forth level.

I knew I was in trouble when my biceps were spent after just getting up the ladder to the first platform. It was a chain link ladder, so particularly stable. Climbing it on it’s own wouldn’t have been a problem, but climbing it while clipping and unclipping the carabiners while hanging on the whole time was definitely a problem. I had to stop and collect myself at the first platform, but then I pressed on. There were two or three challenges on that forth level that I thought were hard. In particular, there was a “Tarzan Swing” where you had to swing on ropes between platforms that they themselves were hanging by ropes. There was also one where you had to step through stirrups hanging by ropes. It wasn’t just fun anymore, it was a challenge. But that’s what it’s supposed to be, right? The boys all ran ahead right away to start the fifth level, but I took some time, ate a sandwich, and rested my tired biceps and shoulders.

When I was ready for the fifth level, I ended up behind a couple of teenage girls, and they were worried I would want to pass them and offered for me to go ahead. That’s right. In my forties, but still look like I kick ass. I laughed and told them not to worry about me, I’m not in any hurry. They are locals and live nearby, so they’ve been here before, but this was their first time trying the fifth level. I told them we were in it together then. The fifth level wasn’t really much harder than the fourth, but I barely made it through it. There was a challenge where you had to climb across four vertical hanging nets, and I had trouble hanging on so I would wrap my arms around the cable meant for clipping on in order to rest. I have bruises on the insides of my upper arms as evidence. The boys were already on the sixth level as I was struggling through the fifth, and Brenden called to me about how hard it is. Meanwhile I was pep talking myself through the fifth level. It reminded me of the final miles of a grueling half marathon that I wasn’t very prepared for. I am strong. I can do this. I knew this would be my last level.

The boys finished the sixth level, and they had that sense of accomplishment I felt after finishing the fifth, so I knew it must have been hard. I told them that when considering the differences in our upper body strength to weight ratios, my fifth level was the same as their sixth level so really we did the same thing. They weren’t buying it.

I run a lot right? Those muscles are used to being worked, and even when I take a break for awhile I’m rarely very sore afterwards. This took muscle soreness to a whole new level for me. Every tiny muscle in my upper body hurt for DAYS afterwards. Feeling sore in your forties is not like feeling sore in your twenties. In your twenties it feels invigorating and healthy. In your forties you just want to down the ibuprofen.

I felt my age. But it felt good, because I did it. The mom of those teenage girls I mentioned, who couldn’t have been much older than me and looked in decent shape, was merely a bystander. I did it, and the boys loved it that I did it. They loved it that they completed one more level than me, to be sure, but they loved that I did it. I felt my age, but it really did feel good.