Call me kooky, but, even at the relatively tender age of 33, I sometimes fantasize about the kind of old lady I’m going to be, or at least the kind I’d like to be. I want my Mom’s silvery hair. I want to almost exclusively wear jeans. I want my body and bones to be strong so I can walk my dogs and hike in the woods and dance at parties. I want to live in a small town where everyone knows me. I want to garden and cook and eat really flavorful, whole foods. I want to be surrounded by good friends and loving family, and you know, I’m definitely going to want a really good dirty martini every now and again.
Turns out, other than the silver hair, jeans and martinis, I’m aspiring to, and hopefully steering toward, the prototypical golden years of a Blue Zoner. Continue reading “In the (Blue) Zone”