One’s Aging Metabolism

A hypothetical adolescent or youth has just gotten in a good gorging. Abundantly generous portions of dinner followed by the knocking back of two slices of cake for dessert. Lots of food. But heck, the youngster is growing and the body needs the fuel. An adult, a jealous adult, beyond their peak calorie-burning years has observed the impressive feat of consumption and wields a vague remark about ‘Wait until your metabolism slows down when you get older’.

A young adult topped off a rambunctious Friday night of drinking too much beer by then awakening early Saturday morning for a few hours of full court basketball. An elder remarks that ‘You’re not always going to be able to do that after imbibing so much hooch’ remembering that their own body too was once able to rebound so succinctly after a rugged evening of carousing.

The above noted young adult and youth, having no concept as to what bodily repercussions await their aging metabolism, smile and proceed with no further thought to those warnings issued by the respected elders.


1994

I recall my comeuppance. I was 27, my professional career yet in its infancy. I was active and exercised regularly and was not concerned in almost any way in regard to the prospects of a faltering weight or dimensions of my belly. But I do distinctly recall the afternoon visiting the tailor and for the first time in my life explaining that I needed my waistline taken out on a pair of favored trousers.

I felt as if my body were changing in the horrible way in which I’ve heard adults warn. My youth was a thing of the past. What other bodily horrors and changes await me up ahead? I was afraid. I had come to know the fragility of my humanity.


Fourteen years have passed. I have discovered more of those feared changes. Crummy unappreciated health of youth.
-klem