The Big 3-0....

...one decade closer to middle age, Dirty Thirty, Doomsday, however you prefer to describe the 30-year milestone.  Point is, mine is looming in the very near future and I haven't completely prepared myself for it.  I'm not quite in crisis mode as I was from age 27 until age 29 1/2, but I'm definitely not buying into the whole "your 30's will be the best decade of your life!" BS, either.  How is that even possible?  In your 20's, you're young, have great metabolism, and your uterus is still in top working order.  Not to mention, it's much more acceptable to be single.  At 28, "you still have time".  At 30+, it becomes "what's wrong with them?"  I'm actually guilty of the latter myself.  There have been many times that I've gone on a date with a man over the age of 30 and wondered what disgusting flaw they possess that has prevented them from snagging a wife long before now.  Or I make the assumption that they have commitment issues.  Now that I am staring 30 in the face, I've questioned the cause(s) of my own single status.  Is it my obsessive love of sports and the fact that I can throw out baseball and football terms and stats without missing a beat?  Or maybe it's the fact that I'm not the most feminine chick in the world.  I've been known to exhibit very un-ladylike behavior, much to my mother's dismay.  And the most likely cause of my current single status is the blond-haired, blue-eyed, so-called "baggage" sleeping in the next room.   The one who reminds me almost weekly that 1) I'm not married ("Everyone's married....well, except you, mom", and 2) he's waited long enough for a sibling (or a puppy).  He prefers a sibling and has made the (very good) argument that with a baby, I wouldn't have to clean up poop in the yard. 

All of that said, I've actually gotten to a place in my life where I'm not stressing over my lack of a husband.  Sure, it enters my mind from time to time, mostly after my son reminds me that I'm some kind of lonely cat lady.  But the impending doom of my 30th birthday has mostly gotten me all rattled because of the loss of my youth, fear of my 40's a mere decade away, and a ridiculous fear that my health and appearance is suddenly going to plummet on December 16.  Is everything going to dry up and fall out?  Am I going to gain 50 pounds and wear mom jeans from now on?  Maybe I'll buy yet another cat to add to our growing collection. 

These crazy fears of mine (and yes, I do admit that they are absurd) may actually benefit me in the long run.  My fear of my whole body falling apart has motivated me to eat better and become more active this year, particularly in the last few months.  My goal for age 30 and 2012 is to drop the final 15 pounds and run one race per month.  My next race is December 10 and I will be documenting them on the "Run, Mommy, Run" page on this blog.  Until then, here's to the last 5 weeks of my 20's.  :)