Somewhere in the Middle
Recently, I went on a nature walk – I was so excited because it was to a part of Singapore I had never been to before, and the walk promised cultural and historical moments, which are my absolute favourite things to learn. We were told the walk would be about 2.5 hours, and I realised I would have to wake up at 5.30 am so I could make it to the meeting spot on time. I was ready for it all.
The walk was AMAZING. I learned so much, and I discovered from my Google Fit that I had walked around 10,000 steps. I got home with the satisfaction of having learned something new and physically exerted myself – only to see the lifts were down for maintenance, with no indication of when they would be back up again. I live on the seventh floor.
I paced for about two minutes, decided “fuck it”, stretched my legs, told myself, “Do NOT think about it”, and started to climb the stairs. At some point, I could feel my thighs start to quiver, unfamiliar with these persistent, vertical lunges I was doing. When it felt like I had been climbing long enough to risk a peek, I realised I was already on the sixth floor! Only one more storey to go!! And before I knew it, I was in my room – the whole ordeal had taken me five minutes at best.
I was almost proud of myself. I did not take any breaks, I didn’t know I had it in me to climb seven storeys in one go, and what stunned me even more was that I didn’t feel all that tired immediately after (and my steps were now at around 12,000). I showered, did some work, and called it a night slightly earlier than usual. It was only fair after all. If you’re judging me at this point, mind you, I was a kid who would sit and watch other kids play on the playground. I was a VERY stationary kid.
The next morning, I was roused from my sleep by the same alarm I’ve been using for 11 years now, and as I got up…I cracked something in my lower back. To the left of my spine, if you want details. I didn’t even know you could crack that area. All I did was get up from a horizontal position, and I heard and felt the loudest, longest crack I have ever experienced.
I sat on my bed for about 30 seconds, unable to comprehend what had happened. I wasn’t panicking, I wasn’t shocked, I was just… confused.
And then it dawned on me: this is it. I’m truly in my mid-30s. How on EARTH did I get here?
I was supposed to be in my gym renaissance era, working out 3 times a week, doing Muay Thai, carrying weights – my body was showing me that I’m stronger than I think, as the weights increased week by week. I had moved my activity level from “sedentary” to “light-to-moderate”. My resting heart rate had even dropped! I was stunned at the speed I was getting fitter – I felt I had debunked every narrative I had heard about “ageing” and how “things go downhill after 30”. I mean, barring my celiac diagnosis, there are days I truly feel stronger, healthier, and more in tune with my body than I did in my 20s.
Not to mention, I had JUST discovered what lateral muscles are, and that mine are STRONG. My arms struggle with single-digit weights, while a muscle I didn’t even know the name or purpose of was slightly bored with 40 kgs. I thought I was getting in shape. I thought perhaps my dreams of looking like a warrior could come true after all. I thought I had time.
Only for seven storeys and 12,000 steps to break me.
Mid 30s are an odd spot to be – and fitness is where I had my first crack in my “30s are actually pretty great” veneer. My body now remembers quickly, earns carefully, and punishes almost immediately when taken for granted. And it was telling me all along – I just had not connected the dots. Less sleep feels more brutal in a way that no increase in caffeine can fix. Improper posture or seating arrangements cause neck cricks and back pains that no longer magically disappear.
And that’s not just in health.
I’m more open to social interactions, I’m more fluent in how I carry myself, and I’m more willing to initiate conversations. But I also find I have more limited energy. I see through people more clearly. I have less patience with surface-level pleasantries and veiled compliments, and I’m more intentional about who I spend time with. I’m more confident at work, but I’m also more likely to experience emotional burnout because the need to regulate myself is higher than ever. Everything is starting to have a give and take.
For the longest time, I described ageing as something in my periphery – like a ghost. I knew it was there, but somehow, I couldn’t really see it. The only accurate way I could describe myself was that I was no longer a teenager and I had spending power. But this past birthday, when I said, “I’m 34”, I paused. Because, out of nowhere, 34 suddenly felt like a lot of numbers.
And beyond the overwhelm of…“you mean I’ve lived for 34 ~ years ~?”, I could not quite describe how I felt. 33 sounded fine, but 34 felt heavy. It’s mid-30s, which is basically midlife, which means I’m now too young to be old and too old to be young. I’m somewhere in the middle.
I was suddenly reminded of a scene Sophie Kinsella describes in Twenties Girl, where the lead character has a vision of the residents of an elderly home in their youth – which then triggered a separate panic spiral about Sophie Kinsella’s death, and how the last book of hers I read was truly her last book and I would never have a new book from her again. Point is, time now feels different. I’ve lived long enough to have a past that I can no longer ignore, and I still have so much more to live that I can no longer take lightly.
To an extent, it feels like precision more than decline, to be honest – that precision clearly has a cost, but precision also has its merits, does it not? Maybe I wasn’t broken by seven storeys and 12,000 steps after all. Maybe, my body was telling me just because I could, doesn’t mean I should. Maybe it was reminding me that strength now comes with terms and conditions. It knows what do – maybe even more efficiently than it did in my 20s – but there’s a certain fragility to it now.
And this middle ground, where strength and vulnerability coexist, feels like a fascinating place to be right now.
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