Accepting an aging body found in waves and my child’s gaze.
Heels sinking into the sand. The tide is rushing out. I’m looking out to the end of the earth over the flat expanse of the Atlantic Ocean extending eastward. My head is floating in the sea air at peace with all lost in a drifting calm.
For a few minutes, time is not real and I’m on a trip without any bounds, obligations, or necessities.
Forty-nine years of breathing but these past few moments of living have been some of the best ever. My children are boogie boarding and flopping around in the water like blissful dolphins while my other family members delight in the beach.
The past week of work has been treacherous, the heat dangerous. My days manicuring lawns and toiling in the harsh sunlight are exacting a heavy toll. Operating a lawn maintenance business in Florida requires my body to operate at a high level of fitness.
The ocean cools and soothes my aches. I feel the embrace of waves wrapping around me ignoring muscles hardened by long working hours. Currents laugh at my years of powerlifting and weight training. Their strength mocks my efforts and reminds me of their immense force.
I am smaller than an ant in the grip of the ocean’s might.
Twenty-five years of practicing yoga and mobility stretching have aided me in maintaining decent flexibility however, age doesn’t know or care about my efforts. Arthritic wrists and hips also bless me in their giving challenges,
“We’re here. Let it be felt, there’s no escape, let us be clear!”
A wave breaks against my back and the froth of the white cap splashes around my middle. Although my back is thick and broad there is little taper to my waist. Definition of my abs stand out but I have more of a keg than a six-pack.
Years of doing heavy squats, deadlifts, and weighted core work have turned my midsection into a vault instead of a wasp-like bodybuilder’s physique. A thin image never figured into my fitness training objectives.
My body is built for power.
