By Michelle Jacobs 4-Minute Read
This week, my middle age hit me literally right in the face.
I am not sure where to begin this story. Does it start with being a founder at 50 and the enormous stress that wears on my body daily? I always say I could not have been a founder of a company in my 20s because I didn’t know enough about how the world worked—but being a founder in my 50s, maybe I know too much. I fear failure that I know is so close. I fear financial loss that would be devastating to my family. And I fear managing smart, talented people who deserve more than I can give them.
Does it start with the realization that my body is declining no matter how hard I push against that reality? Things that used to be easy feel hard? My balance is a little off. My body doesn’t move as freely and fearlessly as it once did. And I carry around a pill box the size of a small book!
Or my inability to get off the habit trail? I am moving so fast that the thought of stopping for mental or physical reasons literally brings me to my knees.
I am moving so fast that the thought of stopping for mental or physical reasons literally brings me to my knees.
So with all that, I begin my story. I found myself at the most stressed I have ever been at work. Major retail launch coming up, trying to raise money in the toughest environment, and keeping my team motivated, focused, and engaged when we have a million balls in the air and an unclear picture of the future. I decided to take a two-day vacation to Palm Springs with an old, dear college friend. I needed the fresh air, new scenery, and friendship that I'd lacked in the last year.
I went into this “vacation” with a work crisis staring straight at me. Warehouse issues, inventory questions, and a quick decision to fly from Palm Springs to our warehouse in Kansas City to address a critical business need. My two days of rest with a splurge on a first-class seat back to NYC became only a brief calm in the continuing storm.
Despite the looming work issues, we set out Friday morning on a beautiful hike in the Bernardino Mountains. I was with a friend whom I have crossed the country with, hiked all over the Pacific Northwest, Colorado, Montana, etc. We have seen it all and done a lot! The hike we chose traversed rivers and obstacles which, in our youth, would have been NOTHING. A cinch. This hike was listed as “easy to moderate.” As two 50-year-women, however, it terrified us. We laughed as we navigated the slippery rocks. Debated the best way across a stream that others around us leaped over. Our bodies were not the same. We were a little unstable and worried about activating old injuries.
Needless to say, we got to the top and began our descent. About one minute into the downward climb, with me talking loudly and proudly about my current exercise regime and how it has transformed my body into something better, I fell. POP. TWIST and down. In that moment, lying on the ground on top of a mountain in California, all I could see was work and all the things I HAD to do now my ankle was broken. What the fuck was I going to do? All my joy of the outdoors, my friend, the air, the scenery, the smell slipped away. I was angry at myself, the place, and my idiotic thinking that this had been a good idea. I should've stayed home.
Without going into the gory details, I navigated down with the help of walking sticks from a very nice, fit 80-year-old man and made my way over the steams and logs and eventually to Urgent Care. As expected, the ankle looked like a big black-and-blue watermelon. Diagnosis: Ankle sprain and into a large boot for stability.
I want to say I rose above it and made the best of the time. Moved aside my anger, pain, and anxiety and focused on the good. But I didn’t. I was absolutely freaked out. My stress went from 10 to 100. I couldn’t imagine navigating the airport, hotels, and then the painful recovery time. My poor friend had to babysit me as I hobbled around Palm Springs and sat with ice while she enjoyed the beautiful place alone.
Eye Opener
It’s been three weeks since the fall. I have been to multiple doctors. The PT has started, and the healing has begun. It’s a big giant pain the ass.
What have I learned? Maybe nothing. Maybe it legit sucks (but “could have been worse,” as everyone tells me). Maybe it’s okay.
I am in the thick of some tough work stuff and it is stressful. But I still love it. I wouldn’t change Womaness. It’s a lot and I am doing things I never thought possible. I know I am supposed to relax and de-stress. I try and follow as much advice as possible from the amazing women in my life. But maybe this year is not my year to do that. This year is about moving Womaness forward with a lot of grit, time, energy, and sheer will.
We started Womaness to help women in midlife. To give them the products and information they need to navigate this time in life. We need community. We need places to ask questions. If I have to bear the burden of making this happen—okay. I really wish it was easier. I wish we could raise the money we need and get more products on the market. And I hope we will get there. But this is a lot of work.
Yet there was one positive take away. Gratefulness.
Yet there was one positive take away. Gratefulness. Three weeks out, I am grateful for so many things:
• My body.
I am grateful it works. Old, unstable, and all. I thank my body every day for getting out of bed. Stretch. Walk. Move. Our bodies are truly amazing.
• Friendship.
Despite my fall and making my friend spend three hours in Urgent Care, we laughed for a good part of the time. The two days together were gold. Talking about every detail of our life—the good, the bad, and the ugly—was so needed. It reminded me how important good friends are and how wonderful it was to spend time with them.
• Airport services.
Everyone at the airport in LA, NYC, and KC was so kind to me. Willing to help, wheel me around, help with bags, let me board first. They were beyond helpful.
• Finally, Womaness.
Four years in and it has made me who I am today. Tougher, smarter, and busier than ever. But I am so grateful for this experience.
We are getting older. We can’t avoid it. No one on this earth has avoided aging. We need to recognize the change. Take things a little slower and maybe give ourselves some grace.
Slow down.
Look around.
And take a deep breath.
We are here in this place, with this body and these issues. Tomorrow there will be something else. Be grateful for today.
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