I’m comfortably retired, healthy and active. We eat fantastic food we cook ourselves, buy wine at the local vineyard and fresh produce from the farmer’s market. There’s world-class beauty in every direction, yet getting out of the car yesterday, I heard myself grunt and groan as though I were miserable.
I can hike for miles, yet getting out of the Honda is a bridge too far?
I asked Dale. “I don’t know,” he said with a heavy sigh, “but we both do it all the time.” To be honest, I noticed Dale’s excessive noise. He’ll be pulling a pot out of the cupboard, and then you hear all this ugh, huh, whoo. Heart attack? Stroke? Aliens?
Are you OK?
Yes! Stop asking me that.
Sure, but try not to act like you’re dying. Unless you really are, and then you’d better tell me or I’ll kill you myself.
Maybe it’s just part of aging. Old people noises? But it doesn’t matter, because we both agreed we’re not going to do it anymore. Oh, there will be those who say it’s impossible to quit, that grunting, groaning and heavy sighs are unavoidable. Yet … I feel certain we purred like finely tuned machines while hiking among the Sequoias last weekend.
As for quitting, we’ll see. I’m thinking abstinence will be hard for Dale, who is not what we’ll call task-oriented. He might think he wants to stop, but that moment will pass, and then he’ll be proud of his little noises. He’ll brag about them at parties, like he saw Janis at Woodstock.
On the other hand, I feel certain I can nip this in the bud. You give me a goal, and I will die trying, even if I make unpleasant sounds along the way.
What do you think? Are these annoying audibles a biological response hard-wired into our aging bodies or a habit we can unlearn?