When our children are young, we celebrate all their “firsts”: that adorable first step, the sweet first word, and let’s not forget that unforgettable first tantrum at the grocery store. But as they grow, we often miss out on their “lasts”—those fleeting moments that slip by unnoticed until they’re gone. The last time they drank from a sippy cup, the final bedtime cuddle, the last hug we had to bend down for, and, hallelujah, their very last meltdown in the snack aisle.
Recently, while jogging, I found myself reflecting on the adult equivalents of these “lasts.” Having completed seven marathons in my 20s and 30s, I’ve been toying with the idea of training for another. It’s amusing (in a bittersweet way) how life, parenting, and the lure of a glass of wine have derailed my marathon ambitions for over a decade. Yet, I still cling to the hope of crossing that finish line again, even as I grapple with injuries and the haunting question: have I already run my last marathon? Will I ever find the mental and physical strength to compete again? This daunting thought got me pondering other potential “lasts” in my life.
When was the last time I cannonballed off a diving board? Was there a final cannonball moment? And did I stick the landing? How about swinging on a playground swing? Have I truly swung for the last time? What about dancing with friends at an actual dance venue? Have I unknowingly done The Lawnmower for the final time? And if I want to dance with my friends in their forties, where would that even be? The local YMCA? Applebee’s?
As I reflect, I realize I’ve begun to shy away from shorts. I’m embracing sundresses and skirts instead. Could it be that I’ve worn my last pair of shorts? And if so, did I look cute while wearing them? Ice skating! Will I ever glide like Robby Benson in Ice Castles again? I didn’t even tune in to the last season of The Bachelor—what has happened to me? Is it possible I’ve watched my final episode? Most shockingly, when was the last time I streaked down the street naked? (I’ve never done that, but during a long run, my imagination can get away from me.)
As I wrapped up my run, I felt determined to manage these “lasts” and make the most of the experiences I cherish. Sure, there are some past experiences I’m happy to leave behind (like drinking to oblivion), but others are too precious to let fade away. So, I created a list—think of it as a Bucket List, but smaller in scope, perhaps a Dixie Cup List, or a Thimble List of enjoyable activities I’ll actively pursue to stave off the dreaded Last Time.
Here are a few things I refuse to have done for the last time:
- Staying up until 2 a.m., laughing and enjoying drinks with friends.
- Wearing a bikini top (I’ll pass on the bottoms—I have what I fondly refer to as a “mullet” body: business on top, party on the bottom).
- Riding rollercoasters.
- Attending concerts where the average age of attendees is over 14.
- Devouring a bag of Skittles in under five minutes.
- Jumping on a trampoline.
- Wearing something clearly intended for someone in their 20s.
- Throwing a football.
- Going sledding.
- Making a new close friend.
- Rocking an outrageous nail polish color.
- Leaping into a pile of leaves.
- Hosting a big party when I felt like doing anything but that.
- Organizing a girls’ weekend with my college pals.
- Building a snowman.
- Pogoing.
- Bodysurfing.
- Engaging in body shots.
- Oops! I meant visiting the Body Shop.
- Splurging on an overpriced lipstick just because.
- Wearing Athleta dresses all summer long.
- Aimlessly wandering around New York City.
- Jumping in puddles during a rainstorm.
And as for my marathoning days? They’re firmly on my Thimble List. I must make it happen. If my body refuses to cooperate, well, there’s always the option of streaking—just kidding!
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In summary, while life in our 40s might feel like a series of endings, it’s also an opportunity to create new beginnings. Let’s hold onto those joyful experiences, ensuring that we continue to live fully and embrace what brings us happiness.
Keyphrase: Lasts in My 40s
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