Ray and I started mountain and adventure sports when we were 46 and 50.
If you’d told us in our twenties, or even thirties, we’d be climbing up ice towers, waterfalls, rock faces, and
mountains – actually doing these activities for the first time when we were this old, we would have said you were crazy.
Sipping cognac by a roaring fire? Wrapped in a plaid blanket, reading something classic (Dickens always came to mind), peering over smart-looking spectacles? Maybe in a comfy recliner?
Gazing from my hand-me-down sofa of youth, this cozy vision seemed much more likely than the one of me below.
But now (youngsters on sofas take note), at 52 and 56, we’re out all the time doing all the things we never dreamed of at our age.
Now don't get me wrong. Cognac? Sounds lovely, but wine and spirits are more our style. Roaring fires? Pretty sweet, and we enjoy them camping regularly.
Plaid blankets? I own two fuzzy ones and am wrapped in one now. Smart-looking spectacles? I have five pair, located strategically around the house (and the car). Comfy recliner? Bought one last December.
But let me tell you, the reality of our lives surpasses all these comforts I imagined when I was younger. And they are nothing compared to the feeling of coming home after a day on the ice, the mountain, the trail, any new adventure really - doing all the things we never dreamed of not so long ago.
So, tell us...
When you were younger, what did you imagine your life would be when you were older? Is it different than you thought it would be?