In Her Words

"Wake up, Life's Half Over"

Reinventing life at the midpoint

By: Mary Beth Sammons

"Wake up, life's half over!"

Those are the words, delivered in a passionate coaching/military sergeant-esque way each Friday morning at 6 a.m. from my Spin teacher. You have to love the guy ... he keeps you Spinning, even if it is challenging.

For the last year, since I plunged into this whole exercise/fitness/wellness mode, I have paid serious attention to his words. I'm not doing this just to make my legs spin faster and harder on the bike, but to make sure that every day I am alive I am living, striving faster and harder so that I can be healthy enough to spend time with the people I love and less time doing the things that are rote, just to stay on the work/must-do treadmill.

These days, the words "Wake up, life's half over" have a deep meaning for me.

I just turned 50.

Everywhere I go I am reminded of it. The AARP card that arrived in my mailbox. The poster of a bunch of gray-haired people around my mom's age on a poster in my bank's lobby, titled "50 and Better," and a note from an editor at the business publication where I used to be an editor, announcing that they are changing their annual "40 Under 40" achieving businessfolk award to "50 Over 50." When we got our new puppy, Bailey, my eldest daughter turned to me and said "Mom, this is kind of like what it is going to be to become a grandma."

Ugh.

As I enter the "second half," I have done a lot of reflection on the first. I always thought that the good stuff would come later, after I put in the hard time taking care of my young children - now teens - working like a madwoman to carve out a writing career and financial stability and mixing in time with friends and family.

But now I'm told I'm middle-aged ... that the first half is over and the second half is ahead of me.

Everyone seems to think that way except for me. I'm quick to click off a roster of women who look awesome post-50: Katie Couric, Ann Curry, Helen Mirren and Maria Shriver, to name a few. I used to think this way, until the last couple of years, when four of my closest friends in my inner circle didn't make it to the marker I just celebrated. They died too young. Some of my friends spend their days at this midpoint lamenting their mistakes or fearing what lies ahead.

I have chosen to live with an urgency. I look to find the joy in the simple moments. Being at my father's bedside this past year, I have learned some special things about him. We celebrated Christmas, our family, bringing in chairs from other hospital rooms and playing charades around his bedside. It was the best Christmas ever.

I've learned to slip in a run in the woods early in the morning with a friend, and find the joy in hearing the cicadas, even if the rest of the day means resolving conflict between my kids or getting a call from my mom and dad that things aren't okay.
I've learned to try things I never thought I could ever do, like competing in triathlons and surfing. I've even flown from a trapeze.

I've learned, and hope to carry into the second half, that "perfect" is pretend. The not-so-real me is not as young as she would like, but she is happy, filled with joy and, as my yoga instructor, Chad, would say, "makes every day the best day ever."

Now that I have crossed the line over the midpoint, I celebrate the words: "Wake up, life's half over."

Is 50 the new 40? Is 40 the new 30?