How did I find myself struggling to keep up with a crowd of young adults on a steep hill at a local college?
My absolute refusal to appear weak or – gasp – old had me powering up the hills at the college my son was visiting and refusing to show weakness or even breathe out loud. My refusal to breathe was rooted in practicality, because if I allowed my breathing to be heard, then everyone around me would hear my desperate gasps for air as I tried to get to the top of the hill.
I have my pride, you know.
I’ll set the stage for you. My son was invited to shadow a student for the day at a college, and after he was settled in I decided to walk around the campus. It was a gorgeous fall day in New England, and I was excited to meander. That’s when I discovered that this particular university was built on the seven hills of Rome, and just as I was pondering how slippery these paths become in the winter, I suddenly found myself surrounded by students going to their next classes.
I felt good about myself at first, thinking that maybe I blended right in with the student body in my jeans, sweatshirt, and secretly-orthopedic-but-appearing-cool sneakers. (Dr. Scholl’s makes sneakers that resemble Converse! This changed my life). It was about a quarter of the way up the apparently never-ending hill that it occurred to me that I might not blend in as much as I hoped. First of all, I was losing steam fast, and kids were starting to detour around me. That’s when I realized my sweatshirt was a Storyland sweatshirt, and I was hit with the certainty that there aren’t many college students wearing a young children’s amusement park sweatshirt.
So I did what anyone would do: I sped up and strategically used my arms to cover the words on my sweatshirt, hoping that this would accomplish my goal of looking like I belonged in the college crowd, and not like a middle-aged woman trying not to die on that hill … literally and figuratively. By the time I made it to the top, I was fairly certain that the only thing I was keeping up with was my own sense of denial.
I went back to the car, took off my sweatshirt, and got my laptop messenger bag out to go work in the college library. I’m not even going to comment on the fact that my laptop messenger bag is a relic straight out of another decade.
Just like me.