I felt like Day Two of the flu. On a day-to-day basis I generally don’t think about my age much, still practicing the delusion that the pretty young woman was actually looking at me not just trying to read the sign behind me. I avoid mirrors and photographers and don’t try to compete with 20 or 30 somethings on a basketball court, all of which makes it easier. However, a few days ago I spent 9 straight hours landscaping a 30x12 raised bed, digging holes in clay-based soil, edging the bed, hauling mulch, and planting the shrubs. Fortunately I was working with a guy, so we served as mutual incentive (“I’m not taking a break if he doesn’t need one.”). The telling part was the next morning. Even though I’d done the 1,000 grams of ibuprofen throughout the workday, the next morning I felt like I had the full blown flu minus the fever and congestion. And I still had 10 shrubs to plant in a hedgerow near the raised bed. I decided 6 would be enough before shuffling inside to the heating pad and a college football game where I watched in wonder as those kids slammed into each other at full speed and simply bounced back up. All I did was plant shrubs four days ago, and I’m just not feeling fully back to that same old guy looking back at me in the mirror I can’t avoid when I shave. I hope all this aging eventually brings the wisdom everyone promises.