As humans, we are constantly in a state of internal conflict. Indulge (and then usually feel guilty about it) or abstain, get up and move or laze on the couch, push ourselves outside our comfort zone or stay within the confines and comfort of routine.

It is an art and balance we need to master in order to be happy.

With age comes a new wrinkle in this ever-changing struggle of understanding and respecting your physical limitations.

As I’ve aged, I’ve tried to navigate the art of pushing by deciding what is important to me, and what I enjoy doing with realistic expectations of what I’m capable of doing.

I’ve never been one of those extreme sports enthusiasts or had any desire to push myself to the limit, whether its running, car racing or facing the wilds. For me, it’s not about iron mans, marathons or the Canadian Death Race (yes, it’s an actual ultramarathon held in Alberta each year in the Rockies where a very small field of 1,000 certifiably insane racers run non-stop for 24 hours through the mountains, sponsored by sinistersports.ca—the name itself should send you running and screaming in the opposite direction.)

My idea of a fun afternoon is skating and ice fishing on my lake, followed by a nice glass of Merlot in front of my woodstove while watching the Bills hopefully beat the Chiefs tonight.

The art of pushing for me is forcing myself to continue to do the things I love to do and not kill myself.

Now, when we go on an interior canoe trip to Algonquin Park, we plan a route that doesn’t involve portaging or we might rent an outpost cabin.

I still love to hike, play hockey and skate on lakes, but my days of doing pirouettes, lunges, or racing like crazy to beat the neighbours’ kids to the puck are over.

I will continue to push myself to experience new things, new places and meet new people even if it feels awkward at first.

Martin Luther King said, “Keep pushing forward, even when the path is uncertain, for greatness awaits those who persist”.

Well, if not greatness, hopefully a nice glass of Merlot.