It's been an interesting week. We're almost half way through the challenge and adding to the pressure is the fact it's the last week that I'll be able to say I'm in my 30s.
On Monday night I droned on yet again to my brilliant quiz team about my angst over the impending milestone birthday and my never-ending excitement about my upcoming dream holiday. Alison pointed out that it's somewhat insulting to have someone harp on as if turning 40 is the end of the world when she is in her 40s already.
Jon looked ready to point out that the team has been listening to this for weeks now. Luckily the combined sense of humour of the quiz team is the reason I turn up every week and we could all still laugh about getting older.
Of course it's not the end of the world. My brother David didn't make it to his first birthday and my friend Rachel died of cancer at 35. It is a privilege, not a right, to make it to 40 in good health, living in a place like Queenstown and in a country like New Zealand. I know that.
It still seems surreal though. It doesn't seem that long since my parents were 40 and I thought they were ancient. Then there are the fashion rules that apply to the over 40s. There's nothing worse than a schoolgirl hairstyle on an aged face or a woman in her 40s dressing like an 18-year-old. Still, I've never played by the fashion rules and see no need to change that approach now.
Tuesday involved a mad sprint to the post office to catch the courier. In litigation, that's how it is sometimes. You have to be able to think quickly, move fast and keep calm. Now that I can sprint to the post office at 4.52pm, I've mastered two out of three. A month ago, the idea of me sprinting to the post office would have been laughable.
Wednesday night was the group training session and a chance to bond with the other women on the challenge. The sessions are always a big physical strain but it's good to see the others and swap stories that only those going through this angst can understand. I can now talk the gym language too: squat row, barbell bench press, lat pull down and so on. Phrases I once never knew existed now roll off the tongue.
I watched In the Name of the Father on Thursday night. It is a brilliant film, the acting is sublime and the storyline is gripping. Nearly 20 years after first seeing it, I was enthralled. It is a film that makes you think. It's a film that inspires people to become lawyers. However, it's not a film to start watching at 11pm when you need to be at the gym at 7am the following day.
My mother also rang to announce that I should forget the gym and she loves me the way I am. It's a lovely sentiment, but I'm still determined to be fitter and healthier. So I went for a long walk on the Frankton track with a male companion. I have to confess to initial apprehension as he seemed to react badly to my driving and complained loudly most of the way there. I took it to be part of his nature, perhaps related to his swarthy looks and dark brown eyes.
After our relaxing walk I took him to meet friends for coffee, then we went back to his place for dinner. A most pleasant autumn afternoon.
By the time this column is published I'll be celebrating my 40th with a glass of Champagne and gallivanting around New York.
I have asked my friends not to spend large amounts of money on birthday presents but to give a donation to the New Zealand Down Syndrome Association instead. My best friend's daughter has Down syndrome and the association does some fantastic work supporting families.
Any readers of the Queenstown Times interested in its work can have a look at www.nzdsa.org.nz.
As for the male companion, he's staying here in Queenstown. His name is Oscar and he's a black Labrador.
