A friend told me that I should get ChatGPT to make me some workout routines, so I can ease back into going to the gym. “I don’t use it. It gets things wrong,” I said. She was polite, and let it go without comment. She’s the one who has a compounding pharmacy make her a modified GLP-1 though she can’t get it prescribed the normal way, because she is a healthy weight for an athletic person in her fifties. I said at one point that I thought GLP-1s are modified starvation, and clearly, I was wrong, but she was understanding. She’s a smart woman. I admire her.
Yesterday she said her parents are growing increasingly stubborn. Her dad, in his eighties, won’t get a joint replacement even though his problems are really limiting his mobility. I said I should probably get one now if I’m going to get it, because I’m in the right window for it. People in their eighties too often die when they get well-meaning surgery, like my uncle who got a heart valve replacement. She said she knew someone that happened to, too.
“Yeah, we get stubborn as we get older.”
“I agree,” said another friend (also probably in her fifties). “We’re entitled to be stubborn.”
“Yeah,” I said. “Like when I decided holding hands at the end of the meeting was a little too culty, so I just stopped.”
“Oh, then you’re not worried about germs?” she said blankly. I can see why she would think so. I wear a mask in meetings, but that’s because I have asthma and can’t afford an unnecessary respiratory disease.
“Nah, I’m not germaphobic,” I said amiably, and moved on. Both friends are in their fifties, after all, and I have to remember to be kind.
My fifties were a great age. I remember them well. I was stubborn then, too. It hasn’t actually gotten worse, it’s just that In your fifties, people allow you to be stubborn. Anyway, I have some good workout routines in my gym app and I’m perfectly capable of using other resources, or maybe hiring a trainer, though those all get it wrong too; I’m waiting until the side effects from GLPs show up properly. I should probably talk to my doctor about my shoulder before I hit 80. I’m not gonna hold people’s hands at the end of the meeting, though. It’s juvenile and creepy, and I have always enjoyed being stubborn and difficult, at least according to my family. Why stop now?