One of the regulars told me something years ago I still think about. We were walking down the fairway after his drive came up shorter than he wanted. He laughed, shrugged, and said, "Getting old is strange. My mind still reaches the ball before my body does."

Then he said something I've never forgotten: "The trick is learning to enjoy the walk more than the distance."

When you're young, everything is measured in distance. How far you can hit it, how fast you can get somewhere. Then life quietly changes the questions. How well did you love? Who still calls just to hear your voice?