This Is 59

And so, it starts: my final year in my 50s.

Next year, I'll officially be a senior citizen. I may even stop counting the years after I hit 60.

It's funny. Most of the time, I feel younger than I am, as though my brain hasn't quite caught up with the rest of my body. Until I look in the mirror.

I see more of my dad than I recognize of my early self. And he died at 62. I have three more years to reach that age.

But I'm going to live 59 like I have no time at all. I want to make every moment count, want to go to bed every night knowing that I didn't squander the day. Carpe diem, as they say.

This is 59. There may be a lot of mileage and a few dents and scrapes, but there's still gas in the tank.

Let's go.