'Over the hill' means life gets better … right?

Why do people say, "You're over the hill" when you turn 40?

Going up a hill is hard work. Struggling, sweating, effort is required with each step to make the peak. Coming back down seems easier. Gravity works with you.

So why is it bad to be over the hill?

I am now 40.

My friends showed little mercy in their attempt to brainwash me into thinking I am "too old" to enjoy my rougher hobbies. They bombarded me with jokes and taunts of becoming instantly crippled with age.

I'm over the hill, huh?

I fought them. I fired back with youthful one-liners, witty ripostes and razor-like comedic lines. I spent a couple of hours debating the philosophies about whether the number of years behind you affects your behavior or whether it is your state of mind.

During the verbal battle, I won a few allies - the ones who already passed their 40-year mark.

My younger friends have their allies too. Matthew Weaver constantly asks me what the dinosaurs were like and if I rode one to school, and I had to confess to Candice Boutilier I don't remember what life was like before fire.

I recognize the age differences between my staff and I. When I feel like being a curmudgeon, I bore them to sleep with conversations about working on newspapers before digital cameras and computer layout software. Yes, I can still write a headline using a unit count and remember when a "waxer" had nothing to do with legs.

When I ask my younger wife her view on my age, she smiles politely and tells me that she loves me. When she is asked about my age by someone else, her typical response is I am 13 going on 14.

Before peaking the mythological hill last week, I tended to enjoy hanging out with my friends, playing hard and still listening to rock and roll. I would throw myself into a sporting activity until either I hurt myself, aggravated an old injury or was exhausted.

Here I am in the shadow of the hill and don't see a lot of difference. I will hurt myself again to score or win. I will waste time talking about anything, everything and nothing with my friends. I will still play music deemed inappropriate. (What's wrong with Led Zeppelin or Pink Floyd?)

I don't see the difference between going up or down the hill - at least not yet.

Looking down the hill, I see some wonderful things coming my way. I have more to learn. I will gain more experiences. I will meet new friends. I will continue to enjoy hearing the phrase, "You're how old? No way!"

I have some wonderful examples of how life is going to be. My parents, Steve and Linda, continue enjoying their hobbies in retirement without slowing down. I see my father-in-law Geoff Paynter having more energy at 60 than most 20-somethings and works harder than anyone I have met.

If these are my choices, the downhill doesn't look so bad.

A good friend tried to explain about being "over the hill." He said the climb up the hill is our efforts to be seen as an adult. When we are teenagers, we fight to be seen as an adult. In our 20s, we continue to struggle to be respected as an adult. In our 30s, we start to feel like an adult. In our 40s we are adults.

He might be right. I am expected to be an adult and I do my best when the situation calls for it. But I still have a strong impulse to play and enjoy whatever I am doing. If reaching 40 means you are adult and the fight is over, then I might be looking at this all wrong.

It might not be a bad thing. I can stop worrying on whether people think I am adult. Surviving four decades and having sufficient gray hair have earned me the image of an adult.

Now I can direct all of the energy being used to go up the hill to enjoy coasting back down.

Yep, I am over the hill and I think after the long climb I deserve the break.

Bill Stevenson is the Columbia Basin Herald managing editor. Despite the mature appearance, he is reported to still enjoy breakfast cereal on Saturday mornings, staying up late and avoiding yard work.