A few months ago, I had an idea for a series of blog posts. Having recently celebrated a milestone birthday, I had intended to reflect on my first fifty years of life. (And this blog post might still be a part of that!) But something happened soon after I reached that milestone: my body reminded me that fifty is in the second half of my life, not the first…

I ruptured my Achilles tendon.

“How did that happen?” every friend and stranger asked me.

I was crossing the street.

And that’s… pretty much it. Halfway across, I saw that a car was waiting for me to finish crossing. Thinking that I should move a little faster, I planted my foot and ‘Pop!’

That’s all. Just like that.

I could blame it on that moment—either the pressure I felt from the car or my attempt to move faster. But I think the emergency room physician got it right. When he met me in the waiting room, he had my X-ray results. He looked at me; looked at my chart; looked back at me; and with a wry smile said…

I see it says here that you’re fifty years old.

I was glad that he shared my sense of humor.

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Anyway, I initially thought that fifty was an invitation to reflect on life. Now I think that a ruptured Achilles tendon might also be a good chance for reflection on life. We’ll see.