My Bones

This morning when I was out walking the dogs (ugh!) (three of them!) (I thought I learned the lesson about not having three dogs at the same time before, yo!), I caught my wrist up in a tangle of leashes and said to myself, "Watch out for the wrist bone.  It could break."

I have broken my wrist before, so there's that.  But the interesting thing this morning was realizing that I was almost viewing my bones as something apart from me, something to watch out for like a toddler you're babysitting.  Separate entities entirely.  There's me.  And then there are my bones.

I don't think I'm expressing myself very well here.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that when I was younger I wouldn't have made such a distinction.  My bones were me.  There was congruence.  I was strong and healthy and game, and so were my bones.  But now?  Hey, I'm still strong and healthy and game.  It's just that my bones (and also my knees) haven't kept up.

I believe this is what they call aging.