Turning 40 is hitting me like a ton of bricks. I’m talking somebody standing at the top of the Empire State building with a wheelbarrow of bricks that they throw on top of me as I stand on the street. Every brick that catapults toward me has a different message: Your hair is getting gray. Your eyebrows are thinning. The skin on your neck and elbows is getting soft. Your hands are wrinkly. Your midsection is getting softer and rounder. You wear progressive glasses. You wake up and go to bed really early. You talk about things like vitamins and retirement. Your back hurts when you get out of bed and when you stand too long or when you sit too long. You think about taking Metamucil or Fiber One to keep you regular. You have one glass of wine and feel hung over the next day. Your kids talk about buying bras and getting their period. You should have stood up straight as a kid because now your neck and back are stuck in this awkward, turtle-like position, and it...