It wasn't that bad

Chris "Isorez" Rezny

Pierini Fitness is blessed to have Mr. Chris “Isorez” Rezny as today’s guest blogger. He’s a 50-year young middle-aged man cyberspace friend of the chief executive blogger.   

Chris resides in the Chicago area with his wife and two sons and pays the family bills working in corporate America as a sales manager.  To keep his middle-aged man body fit, Chris exercises using an eclectic approach including barbell weightlifting, calisthenics, "Isorez” isometrics and yes middle-aged man walking at a brisk pace.

His middle-aged man reflection today as a guest blogger shares his thoughts and feelings last year about this time.  Grab a chair, sit back, relax and enjoy what Chris has to share.

Last year about this time, I spent time reflecting that I would soon enter a new decade of life.  Then one day, I decided to take the rambling thoughts swarming in my mind about turning age 50 and capture them with written words for my down-the-road archival benefit.  

What follows is what I composed that day:

It’s coming . . .

As much as I have tried to convince myself it’s not true, I will be turning 50 this year.

So that means I’m still officially not 50 as I write this out but yes it lurks ominously around the corner.  But since I’m going to live to be over 100, I guess, I’m not really middle-aged yet?  Cool!

Reality check – yes I’m middle-aged and have probably fit that age bracket for the past few years.  I try to fool myself, like when I take a survey and check the box for 40-49 for my age and then privately crack a sly smile while patting myself on my back and thinking “Hot Dog!” at least I didn’t have to check the 50-59 age selection.

I don’t’ think there’s anything I’ll fear about turning the "BIG 5-0" but it still yanks on my brain and pulls on my heart.  Maybe I’ll creak more or walk a bit more bent over and memories might fade.

Man, I’ll officially be old. Me?  Nope, this can’t be!

Right now I’m struggling with different physical aspects.  One of them is that I have two high school athletes living under my roof that I lovingly refer to as my sons.  They’re both bigger than me!

The oldest one can put me over his head and bound up and down the stairs with me over his shoulders.  It’s a bit humiliating . . . but enjoyable all the same.

I’ve gotten used to being called “mister” and “sir” a long time ago just through youth coaching of baseball and football.  But now it happens in a store!

I’ve been asked if I need help “loading that” and this ticked me off; I kindly refused the assistance.  Then I remember when I was that young and probably would’ve asked the same question to an older man like me.

I do my best to keep in shape and structure workouts of resistance and cardio benefits at least four times a week if not more.  One of my favorites is when I focus on a good long walk at a brisk pace.

Six years ago I would never had thought that walking was a workout and at times my sons are ruthless in their side glance when I tell them what I did.  But the bottom line is I feel good and I don’t have pain afterwards. 

My one benefit is that I really don’t think I look “almost 50” and maybe I do look like a 16-year old kid when looking in my bathroom mirror like I know one person says he does.    I have the benefits of a smoother complexion thanks to my mother. 

Hey, I can pass for 48.  But do I look 50?  Heck no!  Do I turn heads?  Nope; I’m just being honest here.

However, this year’s "Turkey Bowl" football game with friends, and many more of my sons’ friends and their college age brothers, proved to be another telling point for me.  While I didn’t embarrass myself with four receptions and one touchdown pass thrown by “moi”, my knee hurt for three weeks afterwards from running and falling on the frozen ground. 

Yes sir – three weeks!  That there folks is called a “measuring stick”.  

I take a slight bit of pride that the amount of grown-ups dwindled as the game went on.  I hung in there with the kids but paid the price because my knee lingered in pain for three weeks afterwards before I could do a workout with lunges. That's enough of a tell-tale sign that my internal  honesty detector has been tripped.

I need to embrace it, look forward to it and find a high hill from which to shout.    

Hey I’m going to be 50!  Alright, did I just say that?  

Gee-whiz; what an embarrassing moment this is for an older guy.  Maybe I’ll just whisper it for now. Better yet, I’ll just keep it to myself for a while longer.

Almost a year has passed from when I composed the above.  I turned age 50 and embraced a new decade of life.   So I guess a postscript to what I composed a while ago is in order.

What can I now say about turning 50? 

I know!  It wasn't that bad. 

Pax Domini sit semper vobiscum