"..when I'm your age"

I’m in my third year of participating in the Y’s fitness classes.  Classes are held six days a week at the Y, but I figure participating three times per week gives me off days for morning appointments, coffee with friends, to say nothing of giving my muscles time to quit complaining.  And finally after these years, my body is starting to want these workouts; I can feel a gentle nudging to get going. “Move girl!” it says.

So yesterday the class was a synergy class--a mix of various stations in the synergy room where we participants perform a move for 45 seconds, before moving to the next station (we get 15 seconds for the transfer).  We continue pulling ropes, spinning, sprinting, or thrusting kettle bells until each station has been completed--yesterday we had 14 stations.  We finished the circuit three times.

But in the middle of my kicking the punching bag (each leg once and then performing four jump-squats), I must’ve appeared particularly focused.  “You look so cute,” my instructor said…”powerful cute.”  I wasn’t sure what that meant, but then a fellow class member commented,” I sure hope I look like that when I’m your age.”  I thought, when I’m your age.  Wow.

Now I know I’m about twice the age of most of the gals in the class--at least I know that in my head.  But in my heart I’m just as young and vibrant as they are.  I modify my moves to accommodate an older body; I choose lighter weights to lift over my head so my shoulder doesn’t complain. And yet just participating in that class with those young things makes my years feel younger.  I try to keep up and at least strive to jump as high and do as many pushups.

But that comment about “when I’m your age” set me back a bit.  It acknowledged outwardly what I inwardly try not to dwell on--that I have a 65-year-old body.  Yep...I know I should be thankful my body is as healthy and toned as it is, and I AM thankful.  I’m just bummed it hasn’t always been that way, that I didn’t always have time and focus to work out, to have time for myself.

Now that Pete is gone and my mom has also passed away, time to myself is a gift, and I don’t ever want to squander it.  I love waking in the morning, knowing my day is mine to fill with activities of my own choosing.  I delight in napping in the middle of the day, reading in the easy chair on a whim, or having popcorn for dinner (along with an apple to complete the meal).

And I guess I hope that when the gals in my fitness class are “my age,” they are as happy and content as I.