Today, I saw a squirrel take a 30-foot tumble from a tree and spring back up as though nothing had happened.
Why can’t I be built that way? Sans the bushy tail, natch, but sturdy like that. And able to scamper up trees. (Even as a kid, I was terrible at that particular activity. Oh, and never say shimmy up a tree – it’s shinny. Seriously.)
I’m not as hardy as I used to be.
I’d like to think I’m not from the worst of stock. Crazy stock, maybe, but I hope least one side passed down mental tenacity (OK, stubbornness) and physical endurance along with its touch of bipolar.
I’ve found the older I get, the harder it is to bounce back from anything — a fall, an illness, a long day, a wild night.
Every time Nick and I stay out past 11 these days, we wake up the next day and groggily mumble, “We’re too old for this shit.”
I think we mean it now.
We’re not as hardy as we used to be.
So when bed calls, we answer.
One, Wild & Precious 
I so hear you, Jenn! Indeed, it’s difficult for Jennifer and me to decide how much of our fatigue and exhaustion is MS- or age-induced. OK, so we’re not yet 40, but at what point does it happen that age is an issue? Perhaps it’s denial in that it’s easier to blame something you know is going to happen rather than it is to blame something you fear will. Damn, we’re getting old 🙂