I never know when I’m going to write. I go months sometimes. If I try to force it, it never goes well. It’s as though there is a giant, stuffed hand in my face waving back and forth with a message: “This is not your day job, girlfriend. Let it UNFOLD. Go do root canals and come back tomorrow.” I’m never sure if that’s good advice or bad, but it seems counterproductive to argue with that damn hand, so I never do. But, today I heard these lyrics and then the words just showed up.

“I’m pretty sure
I don’t got a lot of time left now
If I want more
Then I’m gonna have to figure this out…

Change lanes
Change this game quick
Or remain in the same place
Fighting all the same shit”

These lyrics are from “Right Now” by the artist Nathan. I’ve never heard of Nathan before, but his song was in my “Riding Mix by Spotify” and I loved it when I heard it today. This song has got a great beat. You should give it a listen. The lyrics are a bit repetitive, but they’re powerful nonetheless.

It’s imperative that you note, I heard this song on my “Riding Mix“. I was riding a bike! For real! Which is what I want to talk to you about. I’ll get serious for a minute, then I’ll lighten it back up.

I’ve had a growing unease lately with my physical and mental self. It was so gradual, I didn’t even notice it at first. I’m 52. Everything is weird in your 50’s. It’s like being a teenager all over again, only in middle age. It’s so awkward. Some of the parts aren’t sure what they’re supposed to be doing and some of them are ready to give up (looking at you, knees and hips). Other parts are still 16 and wholesomely play that part until they land the entire body in the ER (um, shoulders…). Aging is a gradual thing and that is why Age is such a sneaky bastard.

More often than not, I wake at some point in the middle of the night. Sometimes, I go right back to sleep. Other times, deep conversations play out in my mind. One conversation plays on repeat. To put it bluntly, my liver and my heart have been sending smoke signals to my daytime self. The organs themselves have been talking to me at 3 a.m. They tell me they are not alright. Their incessant chatter keeps me awake in the middle of the night, because that’s the only time they have my undivided attention.

My liver and my heart have said, on multiple occasions, “We’re gassing out here. We just want to let you know. If you want to do something about it, you should start now.” The words were oh-so subtle at first, but gradually became more verbose. And always in the middle of the night. I would lie there at 3 a.m. with one hand on my heart and the other on my abdomen, certain I heard the words in physical form, coursing through my body. I’ll tell you, it’s terrifying when your organs tell you things that are solid. Inarguably solid.

So during the day, I started to move. I just moved. The first weekend, I went into the mountains with my son. I walked over 10 miles and closed those Apple rings several times over. Then I rode my indoor trainer, blowing off piles of accumulated dust. (It was my smoke signal answer back to my liver and heart. Lol.) I lifted weights. I boxed. The next weekend, I hiked again, this time with another son and his girlfriend.

Since those first few weeks, I’ve walked the golf course several times. I’ve been on the bike so many times that my saddle soreness is not a thing anymore. There are no more smoke signals because all of the dust is gone. The majority of my laundry consists of workout clothes. I move almost every day.

To be clear, I’ve also failed. I don’t move every day. I eat crap I shouldn’t. I drink crap I shouldn’t. My liver and my heart are still holding conference with me at 3 a.m. But, they’re also showing signs of healing. As I lie there in the middle of the night and listen to my organs lecture me, I can hear their worry transition into hope and their remorse morph into forgiveness. It’s not perfect, but we don’t go there. The only thing I’ve really done differently in the past 6 weeks is move. I just started moving every chance I could. I found people who would move with me. I found music I could move to. I just simply moved.

Nathan’s line “I’m pretty sure I don’t got a lot of time left now” pierced my gut today and made me want to write. I can’t tell you how many times, at 3 a.m., this has been the dominating thought. When you hear your body talk so frankly to you in the stillness of the night, when the whole world is asleep, it resonates with all your parts. Even the parts that think they’re still 16. They all sit up and listen. And I’ve learned that the only way to corral them is to move. Move your whole body in your awake hours, in whatever way you are capable. It releases feel-good hormones, it makes you remember you are still very much alive, it moves the rings and it makes you smile because you did something physical for your bones and muscles and pieces and parts. Remember, Age is a sneaky bastard, but his nemesis is movement.

“I’m pretty sure
I don’t got a lot of time left now
If I want more
Then I’m gonna have to figure this out…

Change lanes
Change this game quick
Or remain in the same place”

AGE IS A SNEAKY BASTARD, BUT HIS NEMESIS IS MOVEMENT.