Old Man Strength

As I round the last corner on my race to 30 Years Old, I have to acknowledge that my body isn't as robust as it once was. My joints show wear and tear beyond my college and early professional years, and I haven't been able to maintain the muscle mass I used to carry. This isn't a strictly biological issue. In fact, I don't think biology has much to do with it, yet. Perhaps when I'm 35, but not now. Reorientation of priorities toward family caused me to cancel the gym membership, then slowly whittle away the time that I spend running or lifting weights or whatever at home. This is, I am sure, a healthy thing for all of us, spending over an hour a day working out is kind of an obscene thought and both I and the girls certainly benefit from my time. The unhealthy part of physical decay comes from lack of sleep due to the recent arrival of our young daughter, as well as the desk-jockey nature of my job. Since I'm no longer the new guy, it is increasingly rare that I'm scrambling up & down ladders, or squeezing my way behind pipes, or walking a mile to a meeting in some obscure corner of the property. To add injury to insult, Sweetness inadvertently busted my lower lip opent the other day. Almost getting KO'd by a young child does not boost one's toughness quotient. Fortunately, as I lose actual strength, I can fall back on my reserve of Old Man Strength (OMS). This concept was discussed recently at work (including some involved in the Battle For Domination at the End of the Earth), and we have refined the phenomenon somewhat. It is still difficult to describe. Imagine mixing Old Spice with anabolic steroids, putting it in a shot glass, and taking it down warm with a beer chaser. OMS is the means by which you are certain, as a child and eventually young man, that it is not worth it to mess with your elders. No mere personal feat of strength can convince one that he is ready to take on OMS and come out unscathed. I Tell You What did not overcome OMS until inadvertently almost breaking the basement door with my father during a playful wrestling match. Mind you, though, that this was after falling to countless arm-bars and wrist-locks. The Official Father of I Tell You What was experienced in law enforcement, and extensive knowledge of submission moves is a particularly devilish form of OMS. This life-altering tipping point occurred when I was almost 17 years old, even though I had been for some time bigger, better conditioned, and stronger than the Old Man. At work (motto: We occasionally work) we found a few fundamental forms of OMS that manifest themselves in various fashions:
OMS-E for experience. The aforementioned submission moves, prior exposure to gross pain, and having experienced genuine fear in real circumstances gives one enough perspective to keep cool when whooping on the next generation
OMS-C for confidence. If you haven't been beat up by a teenager since you yourself turned 20, what's to worry about?
OMS-CL for clutch performance. As you age, your ability to perform a feat of strength routinly degrades far more quickly than your ability to dip to the bottom of the well and unleash all you are worth. Therefore, OMS must still be respected, even if the Old Man will need help to get out of bed the following morning.
OMS-F for fear. While OMS-E allows one to keep his head, OMS-F provides an almost subliminal motivation to not fail, BECAUSE YOU WILL LOOK OLD. I think OMS-F is similar to TSS, Toddler Spazz Strength, which is how the little ones move remarkably quickly and strongly with an almost animal strength to weight ratio when they are scared or otherwise excited. It was TSS that my busted lower lip fell victim to.