Let me start by saying out loud I was no Jane Fonda.
Not a very big exercise buff but I maintained over the years. Always wanted to look good, feel good inside but particularly in my clothes. Every since my youth, it was stressed that keeping fit, keeping healthy, was very, very important. It would help keep your limbs and even your mind (more on that later) limber into your old age.
Bullshit.
Being a City kid, there were a million ways to keep in shape. Running with wild abandon, hide and seek, hopscotch, double dutch, RCK (runcatchkiss), the President's Fitness Test (remember that?), handball. Then, as I became a young obnoxious teen, there was paddleball, tennis, swimming, dancing all night long. Adulthood beckons and so does the age of "let's get physical". Now, there were cute outfits in which I could prettily sweat while doing step aerobics,running in place, Billy Banks, yoga. When not in a gym, I was climbing mini-pyramids in exotic locales, hiking waterfalls... I had it going on.
All bullshit.
While away in the Bahamas for a dear friends' wedding, I was playing pretty volleyball (you know the kind, gracefully leaping with my sexy cool bathing suit on and corresponding sunglasses not breaking a visual sweat) and came down prettily on my left leg. Small snap. Burn. Ouch. My left knee begins to throb and grows alarmingly hot. Then as quickly as it began, it ends. I wave my hand, "naw, I'm okay. Don't know what happened...hahaha..". W.T.F.?
So, it begins. Twisted island knee became the gateway for all sort of physical ailments to come marching in. Twisted knee becomes major surgery. Banging my elbow accidentally in the bedroom door frame becomes a bone chip. Accidentally stabbing myself in the eye with my mascara wand becomes Pirates of the Caribbean with eye patch and snarl. One slight twist in my high heels becomes a swollen ankle and a suggestion that I purchase "more comfortably heel height friendly shoes for a woman my age". And those are the explained injuries.
And all those unexplained. Waking up and discovering that my pinkie toe hurts. No reason. Can't put any weight on it so I walk around all week, waddling like an umpa lumpa: heel, roll, big toe. Then, instantly, a couple of days later it stops. All's well. Until...while folding my bath towels, the base of my thumb starts to ache. Yes, the base. A week later, after many failed hand massages, it also just stops. Or, my absolute favorite: I stand up normally from leaning over the bathroom sink spitting out toothpaste foam and feel my back 'pinch'. Burn. OUCH. I really did not know your entire life depends on your back. I learned to pee standing up. Such a lady. Once again, two weeks plus, it also just stopped. Per my Doc (who I was seeing more than my live in boyfriend), my back just "seized up". No reasonable explanation. No rationale. Pay your bill at the desk.
Per my bibles, the MORE and the O magazine, we are instructed to continue to work out, stay physical as often as possible for as long as possible. Bike, fast walk, "soft" jog (?), wear enhanced cross trainers, sweat absorption outfits, drink a ton of water. Easy on the cocktailing (harumph), stop the smoking. I do. I try. I did. I still believe that being as physically fit as possible can be nothing but positive for you in the long, seemingly long run. BUT, I also realize my body and I are no longer a team; my body is now The Boss. A mean faux leather clad dominatrix with ridiculously high heels (glad SHE can wear them)and a smoking cigarette dangling from the corner of her mouth who threatens to whoop me mercilessly throughout the day. See that couch over there? My feet are killing me but it looks too low to sit on. I will never get up from there. Those steps over.., well, anywhere? They look pretty steep. My knees will be on fire for the rest of the day. The subway pole that runs along the top above the seats? Can't hold onto that. Might throw my shoulder out with all the jerking. Downward dog yoga pose? Did you NOT listen to my back debacle?
While I may no longer wake up and bounce out of the bed every morning, I do wake up. And if it takes me a while to moan and creak everything back to life, to squeeze myself into my spandex yoga ensemble, to lace up my super expensive no promises guaranteed trainers...well so be it. I will admit, the uncertainty does make for an interesting day: what will work today? what won't? And really don't we just love the surprises life throws our way? *silence* Yeah. Still not really.
There is no other option. Remember that phrase "kicking and screaming"? Well, this is the screaming part. Trust me my lovelies, just approach this in the same manner as you do everything else in this decade: with a resigned sigh, a sometimes silent scream, a tiny tight smile and a big cocktail in hand. Just remember to be careful as to how you put that glass down.
(And if you find out what 'soft jogging' is be sure to let me know. Better yet...don't.)
xo,
Fourty(ish) and Fabulous
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