My trainer is on vacation so I met with another one of his clients to workout tonight.  We're both at about the same level, and Mr. Trainer has taught us both how to spot.  It was good. I was telling him about my Existential Omigosh (aka yesterday's journal entry).  As I was explaining it to him I think I was finally able to put my finger on the central issue that was troubling me about aging, namely: What losses do we HAVE to accept? Hairline, hearing acuity, the ability to read the date on a penny without a telescope, teeth? To be brutally blunt, I suppose Death is the ultimate loss about which we have no choice.  Short of that, there are inevitable losses on the way.  I only have to observe my octogenarian parents to see the reality of that truth. AND, I confess, to put it that way is to lose sight of the gains that come from having eight decades of life experience.  That aspect of it, however, is not what was getting my attention yesterday. It's actually a bit of a relief to have found the words for what was bugging me.