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Sunday, July 15, 2018

Tortes and Whales

Yesterday evening we made the fatal error of watching last week’s episode of The Great British Baking Show. . .tortes.

After a wacky air-head hitch in which I went an hour early to pick up my friend R for our Tuesday exercise class, and then had to return one hour later, we finally got to the neighboring town’s Senior Center as people were setting up chairs. The class involves a lot of aerobic step work but uses chairs for some of the weight lifting portion.

Everyone had arranged their chairs in a big circle, but one woman had pulled hers farther out. R asked her if we were in her way but she said no, she liked to be in the outer portion for more room.

“Everyone has their favorite spot, don’t they?” commented R.

We discussed classes we’d taken or seminars we’d attended and how you needed to think long and hard about where you chose to sit on that first day. There might as well be brass plates attached to them the way everyone always gravitates to the same spot on succeeding days.

As we spoke, I had an immediate flash of sitting in my particular spot at my parents’ dining table in Virginia, my sister always across from me.

Then I was teleported to the dining room in Tulsa, my grandfather at the head, Granny to his left, my sister next to her, and my mother and me on the other side.

My own kids always had their particular side of the dining table across from each other, perfectly positioned for tormenting the other or making him/her crack up and spew milk midway through the meal.

Maybe now this whole concept is probably hopelessly outdated. I wonder how many families really sit down at home and have an actual meal at a table together.

Wednesday, June 20, 2018

Moving Ahead

A friend and I have become exercise groupies.

The woman who leads our YMCA Monday and Wednesday water aerobics group also teaches Boomer Bootcamp, a more active on-land class of aerobics, weights, and balance exercises. Our usual Friday water group has been taken over by water Zumba - exercise and music in the pool, which in past experience was us in the pool doing precious little while an instructor pranced and posed by the side of the pool, very full of her own wonderfulness.

Instead we tried the Friday Bootcamp offered at the same time. We liked it so much that yesterday we followed our Friday instructor to a neighboring town’s senior center where she teaches the same class.

This was a smaller, frailer looking group. To be fair, since this was a senior center, not a Y, the other participants may not have had exercise as their first priority, unlike a member of the Y.

The class was mostly in Capri’s and neatly pressed Ts, as though they’d just stopped off from the grocery store; one woman wandered off midway through, presumably to rejoin the beading class next door. Two other women chatted continuously, only occasionally lifting a weight or doing a half-hearted lunge.

I did find R, a friend from the past, someone who had worked in the same high school I had. She was the exception to the rest of the class, matching the teacher leg lift for leg lift, marching in place at top speed, and swinging 8 pound weights around as though they weighed the same as my puny 3’s.

We got caught up on what our families had been up to in the 25+ years since I’d last seen her. Her second husband had died, but her four children were doing well. I told her about our new granddaughters, and that they’d brought my grandparent bragging rights up to 5.

“You must have scads of your own,” I said.

“Not scads really – I have 12.”

I’d forgotten her skill at one-upsmanship.

During the water break, I was sweating and gulping at my water bottle while R was dabbing lightly at her barely misty brow.

I commented on how little she’d changed since we’d last seen each other.

As we turned to pick up our weights again, she said, “You know, I’m 93.”

Wednesday, March 21, 2018

Getting the Bends

After a much, much, too long hiatus from anything involving much exercise – due to cold weather, plantar fasciitis, and just plain sloth – I hauled myself to the YMCA.

All Wet

It’s official. I’m a humorless curmudgeon. Maybe not all the time, but I have my moments.

Today's report from the pool

Wednesdays are not my usual day for water aerobics, but today I had an opening in my retired-lady schedule.

Pool Epiphany

Today I was up and out, and on my way to Monday’s water aerobic class.

Report from the pool

Jet lag is in the rear view mirror and I’m settling into my familiar routine, which means Monday morning at the Y. This was more critical than usual after ten days of croissants for breakfast, wine with lunch (another glass? why not?), and four course dinners with, of course, more wine. It’s hard to say which detoxing was more needed – from food or alcohol.

Water aerobics was especially beneficial today. Yeah, the range of motion and muscle strengthening and all that is fine, but the real pay-off was the networking.

1. During the jumping jacks, upon learning that we’re heading soon to Florida (yes, I can’t believe it either) Renata recommended the Goodwill as a primo source of used furniture. With the, shall we say, turnover of residents there, it’s as good as any retail furniture store.

2. We were into a round of high knee kicks when I was chatting with another lady who had just returned from a week in Boston and used Uber for the first time. Her son had the app on his phone and he called up an Uber driver who they paid $11 for a trip that would have cost $25. And even more incredibly, the driver knew where he was going, unlike her previous taxi encounters.

3. Then I paddled over to Ruth, who looks like the last person in the world to need an exercise class. She was mid-way through a big Outlander discussion. I’ve been following the series on TV, but now I might take on the commitment of reading the seven volume series.

I call that a morning well spent.

Sunday, January 31, 2016

An Electric Solution

Once winter’s arrived, along with the mandatory extra 5-10 holiday pounds, I try to get to the treadmill at the gym.

Just When I Think I've Seen Everything Department

It was just another day at water aerobics until I stepped into one of the shower stalls to wash off all that industrial-strength chlorine.

This is what I found:

So let’s see if we can picture this. Someone felt the need to replenish her protein levels while she was showering?

Possible scenarios:

She’s such an efficient multi-tasker that she eats as she bathes.

She’s so important and in such high demand that when confronted with the choice of eating or bathing, she cleverly decided to do both.

She’s a binge eater, but in a good way, judging by her choice of nosh.

She’d had a workout that drove her blood sugar levels to a dangerous low and had barely enough strength to stagger into the shower with her protein shake and protein bar.

She’s an inconsiderate slob who couldn’t even be bothered to pick up after herself.

Tuesday, January 19, 2016

Winter Captive

I did make it out to meet up with a friend today, but winter is here in earnest and my house is seductive.

Oral exercises

This morning I finally got back to the YMCA.

Center of the Universe

Summer Stroll

Now that I could move again without grabbing the nearest object to stand frozen in agony until the back spasm ended, I decided it was high time to try going for a walk.

Home Gym

I never made it to the YMCA this morning thanks to a blockade of snow after last night’s present from above. I was feeling a little guilty this morning until later when I reviewed today’s events. Any more wintertime projects and I may need a nice rehab center.