It started when I hit the other side of forty -- the age, not the highway. Those little twinges in my back that appeared when I lifted a heavy basket of laundry, or playfully tussled with the kids.

As time passed, however, it graduated to a daily thing, ready to greet me in the morning before I even had opened my eyes. When I first wake up, I feel like Tim Conway's Old Man character in the Carol Burnett Show. (Don’t tell me you don’t remember.  I know you do.)

Fortunately, by the time I get up and get moving, with the help of a hot shower and vitamin I (ibuprofen) I’m feeling like myself again.

If there’s any solace in my morning routine, it’s that my friends are going through it too.  When you hear us talking, there are times we sound like we’re eighty years old.  While we’re all active, and if I may say so, fine looking babes, we also have arthritic fingers and knees.  Unpredictable digestive systems, with a decreased ability to eat foods we used to enjoy just a few years ago.  

Plucking of gray hairs would result in baldness for some of us, so we may go whole hog and color, highlight or in some cases, leave it be and just say—this is me.  Deal with it.

We see commercials on TV with actresses like Andie MacDowell, Halle Berry and Gabrielle Union sharing their tales of wrinkles, dry skin and woe. (Until they used the new miraculous product by RevlonLorealNeutrogena.)  Jamie Lee Curtis (who has obviously chosen hair solution # 3) is hawking Activia.

This aging thing isn’t just limited to my female friends.  I play tennis with some great guys, and it is incredible to see some of the shots they can make.  But, sorry, fellas.  When I play with my own teenage boys, what they lack in experience and finesse, they make up in hops and speed.  Young legs.  I may need to get my own boy toy. For tennis, of course.

The guys have their physical ailments too.  Back.  Knees.  Shoulders.  I think we’re all almost happy when we have an ailment that’s due to a sports injury, and not due to age.  But then we realize that regardless of the cause, recovery will take longer because we’re not twenty anymore.

I am old enough to be a cougar.  Not that I want to be, mind you.  But the possibility exists.

It’s also disconcerting to think of how many people are young enough to be my children.  Roger Federer.  Justin Timberlake. Nearly all of the American Idol contestants.  (Maybe not Taylor Hicks.)

I start paying a little more attention to products marketed toward people my age.  Goodbye Cosmo magazine.  Hello More.  Senior tennis starts at 50?  When do restaurant discounts begin?  And when AARP talks, I’m starting to listen.

Ideally, I’d say that the wisdom and knowledge that I’ve gained through the years are worth minor aches, and that continued exercise and good nutrition can help people live longer, fuller lives than ever before.

And that’s true.  But tell the truth: if you happen to stumble upon the Fountain of Youth?  Be sure to text me the location.

Pamela appears Tuesdays on TriangleMom2Mom. Read more about Pamela on her blog Crazy is My Life.