What's your number?

Everyone has an age. An age where they say things like "It was all down here from there" or "I started to fall apart when". 

When I was 40, it all seemed wacky to me. Other than an occasional hip thing that started after my 3rd baby, I was in great shape. I could do anything, sleep in any position and never had to complain about my aching whatever. I couldn't relate to my partner, who constantly complained about a sore neck, back, knee and everything else. He said it was because he "played a sloppy first half". I couldn't relate.

Fast forward to 45 and all of a sudden I'm old. I can't sleep in certain positions, especially not on my stomach with an arm over my head. I can't sit at a desk set up that isn't ergonomically correct without discovering a new pain in my neck, shoulder or arm. If my pillow elevates my head too much, my neck hurts. Not that it prevents me from sleeping though. I can do that all on my own. The fun never stops around here.

The wildest part is that I am still so incredibly grateful. Lots of people don't get to be old and sore. Aging, albeit not totally gracefully, is a gift. It just kind of snuck up on me. 

So my number is 45. I will remember this age with an array of mixed feelings, as I suspect the aches and pains only get worse. Lucky me.