When did this happen?

So Melanie, aka psycho soccer mom is afraid she's getting old. Last Saturday, I faced it head on...
I have loved amusement rides and roller coasters for as long as I can remember. So it was with enthusiasm that my wife and I agreed to be sponsors for our church's youth outing to Six Flags.
The first ride we always head for is Batman. It is a wicked, devilish ride that suspends you from an overhead rail. There are seven rolls on the ride. It is a blast. Or it used to be.
Walking off the ride, I noticed that I wasn't feeling exactly exhilarated. In fact, I was kind of woosey.
"Am I dizzy? WTF is going on here?" I thought to myself. Attributing my unease to the heat, we headed for the traditional next ride - Mr. Freeze

Another terror ride, Mr. Freeze starts you off with a sudden acceleration to 70 mph in under 4 seconds. Then there are the usual twists and turns, then the rail sled goes straight up a 285 foot tower. A brief hesitation and you are hurtling through the same severe course, only backwards! Very harrowing. Always been a blast.
However, I told my wife we needed to take a brief respite for recovery. So we sat in the shade and watched people (which is always fun). But time was a-wasting and I love thrill rides. Plus, the park always gets more crowded as the day goes on, which means longer lines. Longer lines = less rides ridden. Push on!

The Flashback is an older roller coaster with three loops in it. It also traverses the rails backwards after the first run. More herky-jerky than the newer rides, this one did me in. As the train screeched to a stop, wifey looks at me and asks, "Are you okay?" She indicated there was no color in my face.
Weaving my way down the ramp, I resumed an old habit - scouting the area for a place to toss.
"Are you going to throw up?" she asked.
"I'm considering it," I replied, remembering the days of "if one finger won't do, use two."
However, there was no suitable location in this park-like setting just off the ride. So we sat some more. Then I went and cooled off in the restroom for a bit, splashed water on my face, drank some cold drink on a bench and sat some more. After twenty or thirty minutes of watching folks, we wandered until we came to a display showcasing the various "world-class" shows Six Flags has. "Spirit of the Dance", which is a rip-off of Riverdance, was starting in 45 minutes very close to where we were.
It hit me while standing on queue for this show. I looked around at the people in line with us and nearly started sobbing. Grandma and Grandpa. Parents of already worn-out or overheated toddlers. Others of ambiguous sexuality. Physically challenged. All the lightweights in the park.
We saw every show they have that afternoon. We did ride the Shockwave around seven-thirty, so I felt somewhat redeemed. But not much.
I'm pitiful. I should have been in lines for terror and thrills. Instead, I was surrounded by objects of my prior scorn, waiting to watch "boys" clog to an Irish-style beat, accompanied by women that could dance (good thing they could, too, for the lovely dancers go to Broadway or strip clubs. The rest dance at Six Flags).
Is this what the rest of my life will be? Is this old age? No wonder old people get cranky.