Today

Today I am 30 years, 1 month and 3 weeks.  

I didn't make a big deal about turning 30. Adolfo took me to the city and treated me to a wonderful weekend at the Palace Hotel. (For reference, I did throw him a small surprise party for his 30th and managed to sneak his closest friends and family up from L.A. without his knowledge, so he felt he should "go big or go home" for my b-day.) We hoofed it around the city, watched the Chinese New Year parade, drank sangria at Limon, indulged in shabu-shabu, relaxed,... we just.... were us (just us in a nicer venue). Nothing too fantastic. No big fanfare. No gala celebrations or expensive party with 300 of my closest friends.  To me, turning 30 didn't seem like a big event and Adolfo understood that. It didn't seem right to overly celebrate my birth, when I surely didn't do anything of note to be here. Not that I'm complaining mind you, but... just go with me on this. 

That Sunday, my mom met us at the Palace and the three of us had brunch in the Garden Court. (If you've ever been there, you understand. If not, please do next time you are in SF. Sunday brunch in the Garden Court is an event where those who love to eat, EAT.) I greeted Mom at the top of the escalator of BART with a bouquet of flowers. After all, she did all the real work and was the one who really deserved the weekend. Alas, as it would not be proper for my husband to take my mother to the city for the weekend... but I digress. I had a bloody mary and raw oysters. Ceviche and noodles. Sushi. Croissants. Fresh fruit. And every type of chocolate dessert I could get my hands on. We listened to the jazz and reminisced. We laughed and talked and enjoyed the meal. We returned to reality (and a life sans raw oysters) back in Walnut Creek. To my surprise, one of my oldest friends had sent me tulips that awaited me on the doorstep. It was a most welcome gift! Genuine and sweet. That's the kind of birthday stuff I enjoy. Nothing over the top. Just a smile and a few kind words. Maybe a few laughs. That's what my birthday should be. After all, I didn't feel different.

It was really a harsh reality when I realized I was now a card-carrying member of the "over 30 club". That happened today. On my 30th year, 1st month, 3rd week of life. Adolfo and I had just gotten out of the car and were at the start of a walk around the Lafayette reservoir when we ran into a family friend. This is a girl who I've watched "grow up". She's a freshman now at Campo and is excited about life and all that being a freshman entails. She's a really good kid, was the altar server at our wedding and I love her family as my own. (Her uncle and I grew up together and he's probably one of the only people in this world who have actually seen me cry but more on that later.) Anyways, she giggled a lot, as 14 year olds are known to do, particularly when talking to adults. She'd just finished up her soccer season and was now beginning softball. She and her friend were running around the reservoir, working out everyday for their upcoming season. Our conversation was brief (after all, there's honestly very little we have in common) and we parted on "talk to you later" as family friends tend to do.  

About 1.2 miles in to the 2.7 trek, I commented how I envied my young friend's position in life. Regaling him yet again with my glory days of high school, at 14 or 15 years old I could have whipped around the reservoir twice without really thinking too much of it. For cross-country it was nothing for us to pound out 7 or 8 mile runs and sustain on little more than a gatorade and a bagel. (Now, it is a mental battle to just get in the car and drive over to the reservoir. Mind you, we live an astoundingly long 4+ miles away.) "Oh to be her age again," I flippantly said. Adolfo stopped mid-stride. He looked at me as if I had just told him I was thinking of quitting our life and becoming a circus performer in Northern Siberia. He said, "No way. I'm in the best shape of my life. I'd never want to be that young again." That's when it hit me. 

I'm 30. 

No shit. 

I'm really 30. 

I'm not sure what I expected 30 to feel like. But, I'm pretty sure it wasn't this. I'm certain that at 30, I didn't want to feel like I envied 15. 

The rest of our walk we talked about our summer plans and upcoming family events. No further mention of my desire to regress to uniforms, math homework and everyday high school angst. Somewhere at about mile 2, my mind drifted. I thought about family and growing up. I thought about where I am in life, the successes and failures I've had and those I've yet to have. I realized that at some point, we'll have kids of our own that we bring here. We'll drag them around the reservoir like my mom did with me and this 2.7 miles will REALLY feel like an eternity.  But today, this 2.7 miles is the same 2.7 miles that my young friend had to get around and the same 2.7 miles that I ran when I was her age. 

This revelation hit me as we rounded the last bend on the path. I happened to look at my watch and mention that the time on our parking meter had expired a couple of minutes before. That's when we saw him. The parking cop. (On a Sunday, no less!) We both broke out in a bit of a jog and then a sprint as we realized our car was only two or three cars away and he was wrapping up a ticket. As we ran, we giggled because we knew we'd gotten lucky to avoid the consequences. We'd cheated the clock and won. As we climbed into the car, I looked at Adolfo and smiled. 

30 feels like *this*. 

To me, it feels like yesterday happened only moments ago and tomorrow will never get here.  I realized I don't want to be 14, or 15, or even 21 again. Heck, I don't even want to be 27, 28 or 29. 30 is where I'm at now. And even if I'd wanted to, I can't go back. I'll never be the girl I was back then. I'm 30 now. But I've come the distance and can look back over the course I've completed.  

Today, I am 30 years, 1 month, 3 weeks (and now 1 day). And it feels good.