When I was a kid, I wondered about a distant, magical year (2000) when the century I was born in would turn over to a new one. It seemed momentous.
I calculated how old I'd be when this event would occur and the answer shocked me -- 43. That sounded so old! Well, 43 came and went. Two decades have passed since and next week I have another big birthday (65). Good grief, as Charlie Brown used to utter.
The bright side is I'm still active: riding motorcycles, hiking mountains, chasing dreams. Darkness appears, though, as some of your parts start to go. Our bodies wear out in our sixties no matter how well we live. Worse, you discover the warranty has expired.
My attitude now is live each day to the fullest. We're not promised tomorrow. Squeeze the opportunity and extract the most juice you can.