0 to 60

OK, so Wednesday I turn 60. Lots of friends and family have already hit this milestone. They haven't made many comments about it, really, but that's not my nature. So this first post will be a physical inventory of sorts.
I've gotten to 60 in pretty good shape, I think. I'm still healthy enough to work and to go overseas, to support my wife and pay for college for three sons. That's the good news.
Problem #1: My gut. I have this rather large spare tire around my middle. The rest of me isn't fat at all - not my butt, not my legs or arms or chest. Just this big belly. So I could make lots of excuses that it's ok. I am, after all, 60 freakin' years old. But I know all those extra blood vessels and all that extra distance my blood has to cover make my aging heart work harder than it ought to. It keeps my blood pressure up higher than it should be. It makes me tired because I'm carrying 25 pounds extra around with me all day. The funny thing is, I know it wouldn't be hard to get rid of it. Eat less, eat healthier, exercise more. I do need to be healthy enough to work for 7 more years and there's WAY too much evidence around me that I can't take those 7 years for granted. So I know I need to take steps. I have a supportive wife and my sons all want me to stick around for a few more years. I should do this. I will, too. I hope.
Problem #2: Eyes and ears (I'm putting them together as aging senses). I'm nearly deaf in my left ear and will see a doctor about it on Tuesday, the day before my 60th birthday. I won't accept an operation, but a hearing aid would be ok. My eyes are just old. I can't read newspapers or magazines without my glasses any more. I try sometimes, but can only stare at the fuzzy lines that used to be letters. This has been happening gradually. Already 15 years ago, when I got out of the army, I knew I couldn't see the farthest targets anymore. But this problem is so gradual it doesn't always seem like a problem at all. The boiling frog, I suppose.
Problem #3: I'm kind of beat up, mostly from my army days. Both hands have been broken twice. I broke my collar bone once. My nose was broken once, too. My neck and back are occasional problems, but have actually been better the last few years, so I guess I can't complain.
Problem #4: My thyroid. As long as I take my medication, it really isn't a problem. Since half of it has been taken out, I know I'll have to take the synthroid for the rest of my life, but we old people get used to pills, I guess.
Problem #5: Arthritis. It's worse in my right wrist, but my left hand is occasionally bothered, too. I suppose this one has the potential to be a much bigger problem, but right now it's not even bad enough to require medication - just an Aleve or two for pain sometimes.
Everything else would have to be classified as minor. All in all, you could just say I'm getting old, which is pretty much what 60 is anyway. As one of my friends put it, "Welcome to the club."

Getting Old

I'm 58. I probably could manage aging better, but I'm not upset about getting older. I've made some concessions. I know I need to exercise more, but I just feel too tired at the end of the day when I get home from work. The main result is that, in the 13 years since I retired from the Army, I've added 20 pounds. I've leveled off at 190 and don't seem to go up or down more than 5 pounds, no matter what I do. That 20 pounds means I'm not obese, but I am overweight. I haven't felt any negative consequences except the obvious blow to my ego and a lack of stamina. All the weight is in one place - my gut. My legs, arms, butt...all normal. I just have this great belly hanging in front of me. I could get rid of it; I should get rid of it. But I don't.
I'm beat up. That's unavoidable after 22 years in the military. I have a bad back, bad neck, bad hips, bad hearing and weakening eyesight. I still function pretty well, though.
Since I got out of the Army, I've added some age-related limitations. I broke a wrist in Iraq. It didn't hurt that much, so I assumed it was a sprain. Now it's healed over and arthritis has set in. I have limited movement and residual pain now in my right wrist. I take pain medication for it every other day or so. It's really not that bad. In Tajikistan, I tore a ligament in my right thumb (what is it about my right hand?), so I can't really put any pressure on my thumb - I have trouble opening car doors and peanut butter jars. For both the wrist and the thumb, I have a brace I wear - all it really does is support my hand and wrist so I don't hurt myself by trying to do something reflexively that I can't do anymore.
With all these limitations, I'm still pretty functional. I can teach. I can travel. That lets me earn a living and support my family. I can still write. And I don't have any mental impairment - that's my greatest fear. I keep my brain active by writing, reading, doing puzzles. Alzheimer's doesn't run in my family at all, so I guess I shouldn't worry.
I got married and had kids late in life, so I plan on working until I'm 67. I'll still have one son in college, but my house will be paid off and I think the next car we buy (another Prius) will also be paid off by then. I'll have two sons grown up and out of college. I count on them taking care of their mother. She'll have social security, but she's 12 years younger than I am. She'll have the house and my 401k, so I think she'll be ok.
My biggest goal is to see my grandkids. I should be able to do that, God willing. All in all, I think I'm fine and have a lot to look forward to.