It was June 15, and in two days I would be turning thirty. I was not sure about entering a new decade of my life and feared that my best years were now behind me. My daily routine included going to the gym for a workout( ) before going to work. Every morning I would see my friend Nicholas at the gym. He was seventy nine years old and in terrific shape. As I greeted Nicholas on that particular day, he noticed I wasn't full of my usual vitality and asked if there was anything wrong. I told him I was feeling anxious about turning thirty. I wondered how I would look back on( )my life once I reached Nicholas's age, so I asked him, "What was the best time of your life?" Without hesitation, Nicholas replied, "Well, Joe, this is my philosophical answer to your philosophical question: When I was a child in Austria and everything was taken care of for me and I was _ by my parents, that was the best time of my life. When I was going to school and learning the things I know today, that was the best time of my life. When I got my first job and had responsibilities and got paid for my efforts, that was the best time of my life. When I met my wife and fell in love, that was the best time of my life. The Second World War came, and my wife and I had to flee Austria to save our lives. When we were together and safe on a ship bound for North America, that was the best time of my life. When we came to Canada and started a family, that was the best time of my life. When I was a young father, watching my children grow up, that was the best time of my life." "And now, Joe, I am seventy nine years old. I have my health, I feel good and I am in love with my wife just as I was when we first met. This is the best time of my life." Why was the writer anxious?
He wasn't full of his usual vitality. He didn't see his old friend Nicholas. He was feeling anxious about turning thirty. He didn't like his friend's answer about the best time.