Perimenopause is a buzzword and a hot topic for my age and sex demographic. For all that’s known about it, for the one potentially afflicted, there’s still this lurking question: is it happening or not?
I feel like I have a Gollum emerging in me. In the recesses of my mind, this barely-haired, cave-dwelling creature is whispering, “My precious.”
Evelyn’s listening to my key tapping and asks what I’m writing about. “Gollum,” I tell her. But after I explain the character, she’s doubtful. “Don’t you have to write about real things?”
That’s exactly it. I don’t know if this is real. I check the mirror for hairline changes, notice my tone, my judgments—and wonder, am I just normal, or is something else emerging? Some darker edge threading its way in?
In other news, our adolescent kitty climbed a good twelve feet up a tree. The ascent? Flawless. The descent? Not so much. Somewhere between the tiny branches, the awkward turnaround, and the struggle to free a paw or two from the bark, she fell.
But she is a cat, after all. Many lives and all that. After lying there stunned for a solid eight seconds, she popped up and galloped off after a beetle or something or other.
I’m creating mitochondria, apparently. With running as my latest hobby, I’ve gotten very into the data. Where I once had to run painfully slow to stay in lower heart rate zones, I can now go faster while keeping my engine steady. I learned that in zones two and three, the mitochondria—the powerhouse of our cells—improve in both health and number. Supposedly, that leads to better recovery, mental clarity, and a host of other benefits.
If I’d told myself any of that a few months ago, it would have made me feel guilty. Because I wasn’t running. And I didn’t want to. And now that I am, it feels like a gift—that my heart and brain and body get to benefit from it.
I really hope I can keep my body strong and supported so I can maintain this routine. It’s actually…fun.
Well, I better get to brushing my teeth and stop typing. With Evelyn having a sleepover in our bedroom, I don’t want to be the reason she stays up.
Night.
Love,
Jaclynn
Going On 40 