There’s a distinct age when you are officially old. From this point on, you constantly refer to yourself as old, use “I would but I’m very old” as a constant response and if you’re lucky enough to look a couple years younger, you constantly make sure to point this out. I know all this because I have apparently hit this age.

To be fair I’m one of the oldest members of our friend group and am adoringly refereed to as “The Old Man,” like I’m that old fart from Pawn Stars (rip). I’ve embraced this roll by challenging myself to dolling out ass whippings to the younger members with varying levels of success. I’m doing my best to not break a hip. 

I always tell the high school kids I coach when they complain about a workout that I’m doing with them (but way slower) that “I’m as old as your parents. Come on!”  I never think I’m as old as their parents. Then I find out I’m older than some of the other coach’s parents. What the actual fuck?!  How did this happen? Oh yeah, I have a 16 year old

It was like 2 years ago (1989) I was getting ready to graduate high school. It’s cliche to say it seems like yesterday. Because it doesn’t. It feels like 3 weeks ago. I mean except that the Berlin Wall was still up and Russia was the Soviet Union. I got to visit the actual Soviet Union that summer. It was oppressive. But that’s another story. 

I’m never getting one of those “Old Guys Rule,” t-shirts. That’s stupid. I may get one that says “I RULE!” and let y’all figure out the rest. 

This post would be a great place for me to humble brag about how great of shape I’m in (for an old guy) or to point something out about “kids these days,” and how terrible the music is (another dead giveaway of actually being old). But that’s lazy you can tell I’m the 1166th best 47 year old triathlete in the nation just by watching me

I’m gonna wear skinny jeans until I have a gut hanging over the top and you can pry this trucker hat off my cold dead head. I’m old but I’m not wearing old guy clothes.  Maybe when I hit 60 my wardrobe will make the pass from blacks and grays to nondescript “tan and plaid” but I doubt it. I’m ordering another pair of Doc Martens to replace the ones I got in 96. Get used to it. 

It’s a time in my life where I’m telling my and your kids “why don’t you act your age?” and they are coming back with “why don’t you?” And I say “I don’t even know what that means.” And they say “me neither.” And we both kinda skulk off. It’s like 47 is the adult version of 14. Not old enough to be an elder, but old enough to break an ankle just stepping on a skateboard. 

Up until I was 45, I’d literally forget how old I was. With the help of talking about it daily, I can’t forget how old I am. It’s like I’m trying to impress you with my Gucci handbag (those are cool right?) or with my ultimate favorite age defying trick. FEATS OF STRENGTH!!

FOS are great. I can walk sit for 3 mins. Want me to run 10 min pace for 7 hours? Check! Plank contests? Where do I sign up? Or the ultimate adult only FEAT OF STRENGTH, Ironman!! I’ll exercise so long you’ll go home instead of waiting at the finish line for me. I crush the spirits of all young people. 

So as triathlon season approaches and I dust off my speedo for another 87% naked run through a town near you, just to show you I’m mostly not squishy, I’d like to announce that I’m no longer going to be starting sentences with “I mean I’m so old I remember when....”.  To my high school kids I’ll quit showing off how mediocre I am at sports.  I’ll start every workout with them only to back off halfway so I don’t “pull a hammie” aka I can’t hang I’ll yell “Migos is garbage!” just to be a dick and tell them that “fast food is hot garbage!” as I eat another salad and know you’re like “what’s wrong with him he’s so old “

You can pry these sunglasses off of my cold dead face. 

#hugsandhi5s