Beach Weekend

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Two weeks ago I visited Ocean Isle Beach with four of my girlfriends. All of us are in our forties. That’s an important point to remember as we move forward.

We arrived Thursday night and did the requisite drinks and seafood (and drinks) dinner and called it a night so we could hit the beach early. We woke up, donned our bikinis, packed a light lunch—Bloody Marys counting as a light lunch—and faced our first big decision of the day. What level sunscreen to use?

It’s a tough call. On one hand, prolonged sun exposure leads to accelerated aging with fine lines, wrinkles and age spots.

On the other hand, we all look phenomenal with a tan.

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Say "Ah" if It Hurts

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I have reached the point in life where I make noises when I stand up or sit down. Getting out of bed in the morning produces a cacophony of groans, grunts, and popping sounds. I baby my right knee so as not to torque it. Bending over to touch the floor requires an act of willpower. 

Blair and I were in the car this weekend and as we parked and got out, I let forth with a few "ow's" and "oh's" as I shook the blood back into my legs. 

"I feel fine," said Blair with an annoyingly smug look on his face. 

"That's because you don't work out," I shot back. "If you were healthy, like me, you would hurt more." 

Crazy sounding, but I stand by my logic. Blair will probably die a peaceful death in his sleep, mobile until his final days. I'll end up bed-ridden and highly medicated for the damage I did to my body over the years.

But if I outlive him, I'll still have to crow a bit, and attribute it all to exercise. ;)

Cheers,

Dena