Is 30 the new 70?

I am on Day 6 of walking like a gimp and being super knowledgeable of the benefits of prescription Motrin vs. regular Advil vs. Vicadin vs. Aleve. I threw out my back yet again last Thurs, which is starting to turn into an annual thing with me. It's up there with writing new years resolutions and purging my closet, and I may even say alphabetizing my sock drawer. This time it happened because I was docking my very heavy laptop into my very heavy docking station(!?). I believe last time was because I sneezed. And prior to that, I actually collapsed in the hallway of my parents' house and laid there for 3 hours until they came home and threw a blanket on top of me. I was in the same position for 3 days. I wore the same clothes, couldn't turn over, had to hold my pee. Seriously pathetic.

I also constantly run into issues with regularity of the digestive system and literally ran out of Citracel a couple of times. I don't think I need to go into further explanation on this topic.

Now I know I am no longer a spring chicken. Maybe more like an autumn hen. But, I would like to continue to brag that I got carded twice an A's game in a single day and I still fit into my highschool clothes. Ok, maybe when I make statements like that, I am actually being punished by the humility gods. Truth be told, I fit into the same socks, ok?

Why can my mom go hiking at 6 in the morning and watch, entertain and cook homemade baby food for two 1-year-olds and a 3-year-old full-time, 4 days a week? Since when did 65 become the new 35 and 35 become the new 70? [Yes, all these numbers are meant to promote ambiguity of my real age] Perhaps it's all this time I spend simultaneously blogging and procrastinating real work. Or is it excess amounts of Cheetos I ate in early childhood or Chinese contortionist class I took back in the day. Hmmm...craving more coffee...gotta go.