As I navigate my 40s, a newfound urgency compels me to share a message with younger generations. Being at concerts has become a physical challenge, a realization that has crept up on me over the years.
About six years ago, I first recognized this shift when a nagging pain in my foot was diagnosed as plantar fasciitis. There was no specific incident that triggered it; one day, I simply woke up to a painful reminder that my body was no longer cooperating. The days of wearing fashionable heeled boots to shows were over, and I exchanged them for sensible clogs equipped with arch support. I comforted myself with the thought that when the music is good, no one is focused on my footwear. So, I strapped on my orthopedic shoes and continued to enjoy performances—from a Black Keys stadium show to an intimate Book of Love reunion at a local club.
But my body had other plans. A seemingly minor shoulder strain from tossing a pinecone for my dog escalated into a debilitating condition known as Frozen Shoulder syndrome. The specialist informed me that this is a common ailment for women aged 40 to 60. I can no longer lift my right arm above my waist or reach behind me—a significant hindrance when trying to enjoy a concert. Recently, while dancing to “Blister in the Sun” by the Violent Femmes, an enthusiastic arm movement sent me to my knees in agony.
I have five concerts lined up in the next six weeks, from The Replacements to an intimate house concert with a folk artist named Robby Hecht. While my excitement is palpable, I’m already plotting my position at each venue to avoid jostling my injured shoulder. I’ve even rehearsed some low-key dance moves to keep my hands at waist level.
The frozen shoulder is certainly challenging, but what truly stings is the awareness that one day, I might look back on these struggles with a sense of nostalgia. I can almost envision myself reminiscing about the days when I could navigate a crowd without tripping over a walker or enjoying the music without needing hearing aids. If that day comes, I can only hope it’s tied to the joy of concerts rather than the wear and tear of age.
To my thirty-something friends who feel overwhelmed by parenting duties and work commitments, remember: this is precisely why we have babysitters and quick dinners. Embrace the opportunity to see live music while you can. The time will come when you’ll relate to lyrics about pain and longing a bit too well.
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In summary, navigating the world of live music in your 40s can be a bittersweet experience, filled with both joy and the aches of aging. Yet, it’s essential to cherish these moments and continue to pursue the passions that bring us happiness.