The only thing we know for sure is that we will age. What matters is what we do with our years. There is no statute of limitations on a dream and no rush.
I was in my late forties when I completed my Masters in Writing. My first novel had already been roundly rejected and I saw that was like training wheels on a bike – great for beginners but better stored in the shed. I was in my fifties when the next novel attracted a serious literary agent, and a slew of raves for writing, but no acquisition. The agent gave up quickly. So did I. I was in my fifties; perhaps, I thought, time had run out.