really old
Published February 22, 2006 | 
son you’re growing old
I told you we would die
but that was then
i’ve gone and worked it out
but that’s when we were young
it never really was
and now we’re really old
and that’s when we were young – joy zipper
So you know why you teach your kids to paddle don’t you? It’s because that way you don’t have to do it yourself! Well, at least you don’t have to two nights in a row! After yesterday, I was feeling my age. I spent the day suffering little aches and pains that endeavored to remind me I was not 20 any more. That’s really odd too because when I was twenty I never did anything!! Well, anything all that strenuous anyway. Suddenly here I am 20 years later with a 5 year old working on his own bad ass edge.
I sure wish I could go back and re-discover kayaking at Gryphon’s age. Then again, if my parents would have been into it, I probably would have thought it had to be a bad thing and never taken to it anyway. Funny how that works. So these days I’ll just push through the little tweaks and odd pains to explore the sport I’ve come to love. I’ll put on my tough face and never admit I can’t keep up with the young dudes. And on the days I just can’t seem to feel young, I’ll spot the 5 year old, and no one will ever know I’m just looking for a reason to stand still and get some rest!
Yeah, I’ve been feeling old lately. But thankfully I know I’m a bit fickle. Soon enough I’ll probably get over it. Luckily self pity like youth, is also fleeting.
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5 Responses to really old
Ya wanna feel old? Last night I squeeeeezzed myself into a Perception Dancer in front of the kids at the college pool. Which crowd included several nubile young lasses, one of whom weilded a video camera. I was feeling pretty old and slow anyway out there in the explorer, figured a little zip might help, but then of course I could not paddle it straight, being used to paddling a locomotive. Good news is, I could hand roll it very easily, so hard I had to catch balance to not go over the other side. I reckon that boat was almost as old as me. Poor little boat had no choice but to comply with my wishes. In the end it paid me back a bit though–I thought I was going to drown trying to wet exit it. I’d already removed the foot pegs just to get in, but I could not get my durn left foot out from around the pylon, someone had glued neoprene on the floor, and it was flapping and bunching up every time I tried to draw my legs out. Actually nothing dramatic, but when I came up, the lifeguard was looking at me real funny. Feeling my own aches today as I hobble around in my paper-like chlorinated skin, scratching.
So pick up that paddle and get back out there, soldier! Let’s show ‘em what the silverbacks can do!
Thomas
Hallo Derrick!
You don’t need an excuse for having fun with your son in the pool! Even the young dudes have their aches and pains once in a while.
Every kid likes playing in the pool. As long as you do: don’t talk about getting old!
Hans
Thanks for that. Like I said, I’m fickle, today I feel pretty young. . . but ask me again tomarrow. LOL!!
Today’s blog on aches and pains hit home. I realized that I took my first kayak lesson at age 62 and became a certified instructor at 64…I think. Who can remember such things?
It’s been a number of years since I ruptured a disc which, in turn, cut a nerve to my left leg which, in turn, left my left thigh weak and atrophied. It is probably about 8 months since I began waking every morning with a deep aching pain in my right rotator cuff that got torn (as seen on MRI) I know not how. It has been for ever that when I awaken and first stand up in the morning my body asks, “You want me to do what?” It’s been a year since I (sadly) ended over 40 years on the Judo Katami.
Alas.
But, I go out to the garage, struggle to get my Romany up onto a Blazer that continues to grow in height, drive to the launch spot, maybe get some help unloading and struggle into my gear. I sit in the cockpit and grimace while I force my right arm to reach around and get the skirt started. Finally, there’s nothing to do but shove off. So I do.
And, all at once, I am a young man in control of everything. I paddle only as hard as I feel like paddling. I feel the hull respond to subtle changes in knee and thigh positions and don’t notice that one leg is partially paralyzed. I edge, I lean and, finally, lay over on my side with a gentle sculling motion that supports my boat and my carcass in a heavenly state of suspension.
I take a breath, hold it, stop sculling and let myself sink until upside down. Slowly, feeling in control and comfortable in my element, I set up and start a graceful sweep that magically brings me upright. And, although I don’ think about it at the time, I feel no pain, no stiffness and no aches. At least for now, and that is good enough.
Another day I stand waist-deep in the water helping folks new to kayaking execute their first wet exit. The day with them is deeply satisfying as expressions of doubt and fear give way to smiles of delight that comes from that “I can dot” feeling. I enjoy reliving the time I was in their place, and I feel enriched for having been able to give back to the sport that gives me so much. At such times it does not matter if I am aching or not. It is only important that the mentor model and teach safe technique.
Then, when I am alone, I read and dream about the kayak men who started it all. I go off and build a skin on frame and learn to use a traditional paddle and become part of something historic, something worth preserving.
I don’t race or go long distances as I did as a marathon runner. But the lessons learned back then help me pace myself. the same is true for my years of Judo which, in English, means the gentle way. Gentle, that is, in the sense of no resistance.
So, I pace myself and paddle, scull and roll gently, without resistance. The water is indifferent, just there, and does not seem to mind or care that I am there in it. The water is poweful, even at rest; and it never changes in that respect. So I do not resist and, consequently, find a friend that allows an old man to be young again.
And when the air is frigid and all the launch sites iced in, I sit and write about it.
Dick Silberman
You are NOT old derrick!