At 61, it’s official: I’m ‘young old’

I read with some disappointment recently that the Encyclopaedia Britannica considers 61 – the age I am now – to be the beginning of old age. It defines ‘middle age’ as being between the ages of 40 and 60, which means that’s in my rear-view mirror. The only crumb of comfort is that some more charitable encyclopaedias describe the years 60 to 69 as ‘young old’, which is better than being an old Young I suppose.

When I turned 60 last year, I told myself that you’re only as old as you feel and took succour from the fact that I’ve never spent a night in hospital, apart from when I got knocked off my bike, which doesn’t count. My energy levels remain high and I can still put in a 14-hour shift – even pull an all-nighter – when required.

But a trip to New York last week did make me feel rather old.