The title of my blog, Fast at Forty, still holds veracity. I firmly believe, at age 41, there are best times in a variety of distances in my future; and, I know that many of the over forty crowd can make improvements in their racing. I am far more knowledgeable about training and recovery than when I was in my 30’s. I know that I can delay the onset of muscle degradation inevitable with age by working out diligently in the gym. Incorporating intervals into my training will slow down the demise of my VO2max and lactate threshold. The years of training have given me an incredible aerobic engine and the ability to race smart.
But, here’s the rub. Nothing will make you feel old faster than gray hair. Yep. I found a colony nesting atop my head. These uninvited guests have made me realize that, holy crap, I am 41! Where did these intruders come from? They seem to have popped up overnight, mocking me as I stare incredulously at my reflection in the mirror. Some will say that gray hair is very distinguished. Whatever.
Fortunately, these ugly strays blend better in my shade of dirty blonde than a dark brown or black. For now, they are fairly well hidden, as they are well outnumbered by the non-gray. Although, since I am airing my dirty laundry, I will know who my readers are, as I will see them squinting at my head, looking oh-so casual, as they try to pick out the unwanted strands.
I realize that there are “techniques” to hide the infestation. Since I already use these “techniques” to brighten my curly mane, the aforementioned gray hairs have managed to infiltrate the system. Damn. I have to up my game. And, WTF, why are these hairs straight when the rest of my hair is an afro?
I have been able to delay the onset of aging in terms of athletic performance. Mother Nature, or genetics, bested me in the hair department. I am dreading the day I wake up and find the grays have moved south.