And no, I don’t mean that in the ‘pwoah, look at my ass kind of way’, more of a ‘scuse me, have you seen my ass, last seen around 2013 I think, before it started it’s slow decline down my legs’ kind of way!
My ass has never been my best feature, in fact, I think it’s always been my worst, thanks to the maternal heritage and my very long body and one ex boyfriend kindly nicknamed it ‘a pancake ass’. However, it’s always managed to just about hold its own presence in a swimsuit or a bikini. But where has it gone now? I must admit, it’s been about 9 months since I last dared to don a bikini (when I say bikini, I mean the type with very large pants and a structurally engineered bikini top which most scaffolding businesses would charge premium prices for, but a bikini none the less).
Anyhow, I digress, where has my ass gone and how did I discover it had gone missing? Well, dear reader, it was when I eagerly threw on the bikini on day 1 of my recent holiday and caught a glimpse in the full length mirror in the ensuite in my hotel room and all I could see was a very long back and then my legs, punctuated by the bikini material. I posed around a bit trying to see it, blaming the angles and poor lighting, but it didn’t get any better. So I decided that the elastin had given up after all, it was last year’s bikini and we all how bad chlorine is for them! It obviously couldn’t be me, so I hastily changed into bikini no 2. Alas, it was no better, my ass has officially gone missing, and I need to alert Interpol.
Whilst aging is a privilege denied to many, getting older can suck sometimes. I need my ass and need to set about its recovery and resuscitation.
Perhaps I should explain how this dialogue came about. Here I am again, on my travels for the first time in 2023. It’s the end of March – wet, gloomy and thoroughly miserable in Blighty which quite frankly also summed up my mood. I usually try to get away in January or February to escape the British winter, as no matter how I try, the prolonged dark mornings (I’m usually an early bird) and the desperately miserable weather, coupled with the lack of sunshine really affect my mood and I find that I’m increasingly wishing my life away as I long for spring to arrive.
This trip saw me escaping for a sunshine break to the Canary Isles – Lanzarote to be specific – and whilst I wasn’t particularly planning on a holiday just yet, I was simply looking forward to some time off to catch up on sleep and get some life admin done, I changed my mind at the last minute. I decided to bugger the budget considerations and invest in a week away at a spa hotel kindly found for me by the lovely Sarah@travelcounsellors.
Whilst the pesky Air France travel controllers delayed my arrival, I arrived a little tired and emotional as although I knew I would have a 5am start, I hadn’t factored in the fact that this was the weekend that the clocks go back too, doh! Anyhow, like most holidays, once I get to where I’m going, I forget about the hassles involved in getting here and make the most of having the luxury of being away, no matter where the particular ‘away’ might be.
After a decent night’s sleep, I was beginning to feel more like my old self, and on this occasion, ‘old’ is very apt as I can’t help but think about my impending 60th birthday which is now just over a month away.
At the risk of sound conceited, I think I look pretty good for my age and usually work hard at keeping in shape, but the stress of dad’s heart attack in autumn last year has seen my keep fit routine take a bit of a back seat and I feel all the worse because of it, spiritually, mentally and physically. So this holiday marks my return to the gym and getting back in shape. I intend to be healthy for as long as is possible and to do that, I know I need to kick start my metabolism, which to be honest these days, is more like hand cranking an old motor which is refusing to start, but hand crank I must.
I booked the Hotel spa package which gives me daily access to the wonderful array of jet pools, sauna, steam room, hot coal bath and jacuzzis (and no, I won’t be experiencing the cold one; who on earth thought that was a good idea!)
So it was against this backdrop of hope, expectation and a physical and mental reset that I discovered my ass had gone missing. Luckily, as a solo traveller, no one except me really cares and as I’m invisible to many at this age, no one is really looking.
I made peace with the slippage of my boobs years ok, after all a 32 FF takes a lot of holding up and we all know that gravity takes affect during midlife. But my ass?!!! Seriously? Whilst it’s never been much to write home about for what little I had to go missing really takes the biscuit!
In the spirit of the aging balance equation, there’s so much to be grateful for and I know I’m lucky to have what I have. I also care less about what I look like sat round the pool on holiday and care more about being a good soul.
I do have a confession to make – I’m a rubbish sunbather. 45 minutes is about my limit and no matter how diligently I try to apply my sunscreen, I always miss bits and end up like a patchwork quilt! To combat yesterday’s sunburnt patches, after my 16km hike to the next village, I’m hiding under the parasol all morning and whilst it’s not enhancing my suntan much, it’s really rather pleasant!
I bumped into a lovely couple from Manchester after we all took a wrong turn, and like English people do, we started talking about the lovely weather. They confessed that they were retired and had spent 6 weeks post-Christmas in Spain to escape the miserable British winter. However, after only being back for a couple of weeks, found they couldn’t stand it any longer so booked another holiday! So, whilst I lament my missing ass, I’m thankful for the passing of time and the prospect of retirement, proving it’s not all bad over 50! However, therein lies another conundrum. Should you work hard, save as much as you can and plan to retire as early as possible, or live a fulfilled life doing whatever brings you joy knowing that you will have to work longer and then hope that you live long enough to enjoy an active and healthy retirement?
I’m sure we’ve all heard stories about ‘Fred’ who worked hard all his life only to drop dead in the first year of retirement. For me, I’ve always invested in the here and now as retirement always felt so far away. I’ve worked hard but have also lived for the moment and travelled far and wide whenever I could afford it.
Travel brings me so much happiness. And I haven’t let being single stop me. In fact, being single was my motivation and I don’t intend to stop anytime soon. The freedom of choice, the ability to be single-minded about what I want to do and where I want to go and to avoid uncomfortable compromises, is indeed a luxury. It doesn’t have to start with a full on holiday, a weekend city break is a great place to start and even if you hate it, you will be on your way back before you know it. I always use a reputable travel company, my favourites being @exodustravels and Sarah@travelcounsellors.* However, this year I also have a couple of City Breaks organised which I’ve booked independently. I’m now very comfortable using Airbnb since trying this out last year, and later this year, I hope to be camping in a Campervan for the first time at a festival (although I will need a lot of luck and alcohol to make it through that one!)
So, I think I’ve probably answered my own question there. For me, I want the best of both worlds. I want to squeeze every bit of fun out of life right here, right now and then enjoy my retirement knowing that eventually I will be less able to do everything I do now.
It’s therefore a good reminder to keep to those gym sessions, walk wherever I can, eat healthily, drink in moderation but enjoy the odd treat, and stop worrying about my missing ass! However, if anyone spots it whilst out and about, could you please remind it to get home asap and repatriate itself with the tops of my legs!
Are you squeezing the very best out of life right now, or just saving hard for retirement?
With love
Julia, AKA Just Me.
*Not paid partnerships.