the difference

You could still go to the gym, says my son perhaps actually wanting to be helpful and supportive.
My back’s still sore and tender.
You could do stretches.
I can do stretches at home, I say, feeling the pinch in my glut and the soreness in my lower back.
You can still go to the gym.
I’m giving myself a break.  I hurt my back two days ago.  I need some time to rest. A twenty something may bounce back from injury in two days a fifty something does not.

He can shake off tackles and relishes the hard hits of the game.  I take more time to shake it off when I stub my toe, or lurch out of the bed too quickly.
It’s a tough lesson.  I wish things were different, but I know that my old body takes much more time to repair and rejuvenate.  I’ve pushed it before.  Not today.

Sometimes the hips stick; other times, it’s the knees. I can still do full body push ups,but some days, I can’t open the peanut butter jar.
Keeps life interesting.  Those differences between a mother and a son.

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