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A Master’s View on Aging
posted on July 15, 2009
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Not too long ago, I celebrated my 49th birthday. I did all the things I think one should do to acknowledge another year of wear and tear on my body; I took the day off from work, went for a row, I ate chocolate, spent time with loved ones, and I had a great dinner. The next day, I didn’t feel any different than I felt when I was 48, but I came to terms with the fact that I was now at the top of my age group. This means that someone, in their infinite wisdom, decided that I was physically capable to compete against other women rowers that were as much as six years younger than myself.
During that moment of realization, it mattered little that the quiz I took on Facebook told me I was really 36. I knew I did not feel like I was 43. At 43, 50 seemed a long way off, and at 49, 50 couldn’t come soon enough. If I as 50, I could leave all those 40 somethings (who were really 26 on the Facebook quiz) behind, and be the youngest one in my age group!
With Masters Nationals looming on the horizon, competition in the Philly area is just starting to rev up. All of a sudden, rowers I see everyday are only speaking in terms of letters. If only I was 70, I’d be asked to be in F, G, and H boats. Since I’m not 50 yet, I’m not going to help anyone’s handicap, and the team boats older than 60 just want me around to carry their stuff. Nobody wants to race in the C category, since it’s loaded with former national team rowers. You know the type, the ones who took a break from rowing to have children, get advanced degrees, run marathons, rebuild New Orleans, dabble in triathlons, and/or ski to the South Pole.
These are the masters athletes many sports have. At the Beijing Olympics, Dara Torres won two silver medals, and she was a registered masters swimmer! The media was thrilled that she qualified for Olympic trials at a sanctioned masters swim meet, but did they interview anyone in her age group who had to swim against her? I’m sure she was beautiful to watch from the next lane as she zoomed by, or maybe she was just a blur. It is psychologically easier with masters rowing, since the only time I may see boats loaded with national caliber rowers is at the start. After ten or fifteen strokes they are gone, and one race becomes two, theirs and mine. Don’t get me wrong, I am in awe of amazing athletes, and I don’t begrudge them their medals. I know that I will never be a world class athlete. I train purely to feel competitive in a race. Why race if you don’t want to feel like you’re part of the action?
A long time ago, I saw a t-shirt at a masters swim meet that said "Oldest one alive wins," and I decided to adopt that as my race strategy. What a wonderful way to put a positive spin on getting older. Now, every four years, I have an aging up party. So what if nobody wants me in their boat because I’m "only 49," little do they know that this is all part of a much longer training program. Next year, I’ll be at the bottom of my age group, and I’ll be young again.
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| row2k author |
| Merrill Hilf |
| Merrill Hilf is a longtime writer on the daily realities of being a master rowing. |
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