As I edge closer to 40, increasingly I see my body the way I see my house. Mostly I am happy with both, though there are days they drive me to distraction. Something always needs to be done, upkeep is forever. And just as my house will always have a few imperfections – the step that is forever threatening to crumble beneath us, the creaky floorboards – so, too, have I become used to the way my body aches and arches.
That’s just the way it is.