On being an 'O'

I have taken a photo of my buddha and feel reassured by focussing on it during unsettling moments.  The Buddha teaches us to try to accept impermanence.  It is one of the hardest things to do. 

The other week, in the micro pub, a friend asked me if I had been cycling into town the previous Wednesday morning.   'How do you expect me to remember that?  Leave it with me', was my response.  An hour later I had worked out what had happened that Wednesday and was able to confirm that I had indeed been cycling into town.   'Why do you ask?'  C told me he was collecting data for Spokes, the cycling organization.  'I put you down as an O'.  I asked what this meant.  'Old'. I was incensed.  'I'm not old.  Why did you put that?'  It seems there are no specific age ranges but C put O because he knew I was retired.  So one year ago was I M? To me old is eighty plus and infirm to boot.  But why did I feel so put out?   Why are we, sorry why am I, so unrelaxed about being thought of as old.  I don't want to live for ever, I am OK about dying but I miss my forty something self.