This is the month I began consulting an older age bracket when calculating my target heart rate on the elliptical. Or I would, if the heart rate monitor worked or was accurate. It's the principle of the thing, really.
My brother asked how I felt about entering this new decade, and I was speechless for awhile. And then I was annoyed at myself since I had been pondering that question and still wasn't sure. Bro, here's my answer. In more detail than you expected:
1) I expected to have a better handle on my hair.
2) My knees have not yet given out - a welcome surprise.
3) I don't feel worthy of this decade. Forty seemed like such a mature age. But now I'm forty, and I'm on to the rest of you.
4) This may be the decade I stop disliking cheese. But I'm not promising anything.
5) I do promise to continue disliking avocado.
6) I have more wrinkles and more gray hair. This does not bother me (much).
7) I hope I don't have to wait too many years to make deep and lasting friendships in MD.
8) Sleeping on a thin mattress while camping now introduces creaks and groans in new and surprising body areas.
9) I would like to figure out who I am to be at this time, in this place. I thought I would know by forty.
10) By now I expected to consistently and correctly line up the buttons and button holes on a shirt the first time. More practice needed.
11) My personal chronological age is less important than the age of my children. And that is the crux. This will be a big year, not because of the zero in my age, but because my youngest will enter kindergarten. This is what will change the fabric of our days and lives, and what I look towards with both sadness and pride.