Fitness at 47; He Ain't What He Used To Be.

47 came and went last Monday along with lots of hugs and kisses from my family and well wishes from my friends.
I've been thinking a lot lately about my health in general. Maybe it's a touch of middle-age crazy, maybe the cancer scare but I reflect on my life 5 years ago and can hardly believe the shape I've let myself slip into.
I never was much of a fitness nut growing up. My father was a coach, so naturally I rebelled by being an indoor kid. I was chunky all through school and the first 3 semesters of college, then got a job as a paramedic and my first boss said "you're on 90 days probation. If I don't see serious effort at weight loss you're outta here." I'd fought for that job, and traded in McDonald's for Lean Cuisine. Started jogging to burn calories and didn't take me the 90 days to slim down about 50 pounds.
It doesn't seem like that long ago I was regularly bicycling to work and taking a 15 mile detour just to get a solid workout in. Getting up at 5:15 so I could be the first person on the StairMaster was a daily occurrence, and I remember walking in again (for the second time that day) 7:30 PM one evening and heard one of the fitness trainers point at me and whisper "hardcore" to one of his colleagues.
I decided to start hiking because I was getting bored doing an entire hour on the climber without any change of scenery. I started with regular trips to Stone Mountain State Park above Elkin, then day trips to mountain trails in the western part of the state. Within 2 years, I'd joined a group and we spent an entire week hiking, including a climb to the top of Long's Peak. The Long's Peak climb started at 1AM, and we hiked through the night to get above the treeline. We summitted at about 11AM and didn't get back to the car before about 4 in the afternoon, then showered and went out for a celebratory beer and steak dinner. I amazed the other guys by being up at 6:30 the next day and taking a 5 mile run before we went into town.
A number of issues conspired to get me off track physically. My brother died in 2003 and I lost a good deal of desire then. My father's death, and then a difficult separation drove the final nails in the coffin of my program.
I kept my Y membership for a couple of years after I quit going. I'd try to start again every couple months or so, but somehow the drive had left me. I remember how embarrassed I was when I stopped by 70 pounds overweight and turned in my card. Likewise, selling my bicycle at a yard sale when we cleaned out our home for sale brought a measure of sadness.
I ate a good meal for my birthday; the last "good" meal I've had since. I've decided I've got one good fitness odyssey left in me. Today marks completion of my 4th day on the Couch-2-5K program on my iPhone. As painful as it is, I step on the scales every morning when I shower and mark it down. Every morsel of food has been measured and logged as to calories, fat grams, and carbohydrates. So far, I'm a walking sore but I find that sleep is coming easier and energy more plentiful. I have found that the recovery time at 47 is significantly more than it was at 40.
As long as the Naprosyn holds out, I'm gonna stick with it.