Twenty-five and lovin' it

Our columnist is not about to let middle age dampen her spirit of adventure.

I’M 25 years old. I’ve been that age for the past 30 years. Except, someone forgot to tell my body. So, my youthful enthusiasm has to contend with a skeleton that creaks slightly, failing eyesight and a memory that is … well, I forget the word that best describes my memory, but I’ll let you know as soon as it comes back to me.