I turned 64 today.

Paul McCartney wrote a song about it. I got gout.

Not just any gout either – a sharp, throbbing, indignant little flare-up in my left big toe, which is unusual because when gout has visited me in the past, it’s generally favoured the right. Clearly, even my ailments are trying something new this year.

I like to think of it as my body’s birthday card.
Inside it says: “Surprise.”

For anyone unfamiliar with gout – and I envy you – it’s a condition that announces itself with all the subtlety of a fire alarm at 3am. One minute you’re fine, the next your toe feels like it’s been stung by a wasp with anger management issues. Shoes become optional. Walking becomes a negotiation.

Is it the result of Christmas excess?
Almost certainly.

December is a month-long audition for gout. Rich food. Red meat. Seafood. Alcohol. Sugar. Repeat. By the time January arrives, your joints are quietly doing the maths and deciding whether to rebel. Mine have voted yes.

The cruel irony is that I don’t get gout often. Which means when it does arrive, I’ve forgotten just how dramatic it can be. It’s like bumping into an old acquaintance who reminds you why you drifted apart.

So how do you get rid of it quickly when it’s your birthday and you’d quite like to walk normally?

The honest answer is: you can’t rush gout, but you can stop making it worse.

That means water – lots of it – because hydration helps flush uric acid from the system. It means laying off the rich food and alcohol for a few days, which feels deeply unfair given the calendar. It means rest, elevation, and anti-inflammatory medication if that’s what your doctor has previously recommended for you. And yes, it means accepting that your body is having a moment and would appreciate being listened to.

Gout, like ageing, is not a punishment. It’s feedback.

Which brings me to the bigger point of turning 64.

There’s a persistent myth that life narrows after 60 – that the runway shortens, the options reduce, the best bits are behind us. But the evidence suggests otherwise.

Plenty of people are doing their best work in their 60s. Writers publishing major books. Musicians touring the world. Entrepreneurs starting businesses. Grandparents discovering they’re surprisingly good at Lego. Studies consistently show that people in their 60s report higher life satisfaction than they did in midlife, largely because they worry less about what others think and choose their battles more carefully.

At 64, you’ve usually learned a few things:

That most problems are temporary
That health is worth paying attention to
That saying no can be liberating
And that optimism is a muscle – the more you use it, the stronger it gets
Physically, yes, the body changes. It complains more. It requires maintenance. Occasionally, it gifts you a swollen toe on your birthday. But mentally and emotionally, many people are calmer, clearer, and more confident than they’ve ever been.

Life doesn’t stop at 64.
It changes gear.

You may not sprint the way you once did, but you see more. You appreciate small wins. You understand that joy doesn’t need to be loud to be real. And when something goes wrong – like a toe that feels personally offended – you’re better equipped to deal with it.

So today, I’ll celebrate quietly. I’ll drink water instead of wine. I’ll elevate my foot like it’s royalty. I’ll remind myself that this flare-up will pass, just as so many things have before it.

And I’ll stay optimistic.

Because 64 does look like a good year – even if it’s starting on a slight limp.

Happy birthday to me.