When I turned 50, it was rather bothersome. I was going to the gym regularly, but I felt like I was training for no purpose. I was feeling a bit sorry for myself as I was getting older. I was feeling sorry for myself, because I had no passion. Sense I graduated from college, I have always had a passion.
Some lasted more than decades and some just a year or two. By passions, I mean martial arts, gaming, working out. Those were big ones. Smaller ones like dabbling in languages or Napoleonic history came and went, though the little ones still surface briefly from time to time.
As I turned 51, I was beginning to think maybe this is what growing older is like. No passion. Just take your self home every night and plop your big butt in front of the TV or computer. Then I took a CALL class at UNCG. An introduction to foil fencing.
Suddenly there was the fire! I loved it. I was terrible at it, but I loved it! It was like a fast paced video game with sweating and being out of breath. It was like combat without pain. ( A few bruises once in a while and a shot to the groin could be a bad day.....but basically no pain, except for some sore muscles.) My mind was consumed by it. I read everything I could find about it. As soon as the course was over I had joined a local fencing club. I felt alive again.
More later, as an aging man talks about his trails and tribulations of pursuing a young persons sport.