This man is me!

I looked at myself shirtless in the mirror a couple of days ago. I looked at the relatively new appendectomy scars, the huge scars on my forearm, but also the shape, paler, softer, and yes, fatter. It struck me. I look older. Maybe not old yet, but older. Life has made it's mark on me. The days where I eat whatever I want, take a short jog every now and again and stay in shape are long gone. The Wolverine-like healing powers of youth are replaced by a plethora of random, unexplained aches and pains.

I'm older. I've lived more. And it shows.

This is the part where I'm supposed to say I looked at myself and saw the marks of my journey, that I looked proudly at myself and embraced the truth that how I look is a reflection of the road I've walked, who I've become, how I've grown and where I'm heading.

Honestly I'm working on that. Mostly I felt depressed. 
 
At physical therapy this evening the PT had me take my shirt off. normally they don't need to. I wish I could say I sat there comfortable and confident in who I am and how I look. Truth is, I was very happy to put my shirt back on.

Not sure where I was going with this. I guess the article resonated with some thoughts that have been rattling around.