Musings on Exercise: You wanted Me To Do What?

Having now emerged from what I call the Covid Coma of Inactivity, I find my aging body to have suffered from prolonged periods of sitting, eating, napping, snacking, reading, nibbling, watching documentaries, sipping wine, and other passive past-times. Tho’ never ever a fitness guru, I am a bit bothered by my physical decline and decided it’s time to do something. Disclaimer: My weight is not an issue, but when one uses pliers to open a bottle or pull open a ringed top, or a flight of stairs looks like a highway to heaven, I think it’s prudent to take some action!

I began researching “exercise” and the following facts were certainly alarming; according to the National Council of Aging, every eleven (11) seconds, an older adult is admitted to the ER for a fall-related injury and every nineteen (19) minutes, a senior dies from a fall. Scary! The good news is that regular exercise reduces the likelihood of falling by twenty three (23) percent. Okay—that in itself is a good motivator. If that wasn’t enough, the Alzheimers Research and Preventative Foundation states that there is a body-mind link and exercise can reduce the risk of dementia or Alzheimers by nearly fifty (50)%. Wow—even more motivation.

Surely, with just those two facts, one should be convinced to become the second-coming of Jane Fonda! Ah, easier said than done.

I don’t know when my aversion to exercise began. Certainly as a child I had plenty of exercise, but we called it “play”. My Mother’s daily edict was “go outside and play” and that’s what we did. Tag, hopscotch, roly-poly, jump-roping, rollerskating, swinging, climbing on monkey bars were pretty much daily activities. As I got older and could leave the neighborhood on my own, I walked or rode my bike all over town, played “at” tennis and was active three seasons a year. (Winter months filled with snow and ice was never, ever my bag! Iceskating was more of a social event, rather than an activity!) As a student I walked everywhere and as a hospital nurse before marriage, I walked even more. Marriage, raising four active children (plus two dogs), running a home with stairs and doing gardening ensured lots of exercise and oh! how we loved dancing—from weekly square-dances while living in Louisiana to ballroom dancing in O clubs! I stayed in pretty good shape and condition just living my life for a number of decades.

Then, things changed. We became empty nesters, life styles changed. We moved from the suburbs to a one floor city condo; I took a desk job for several years; we eventually took an early retirement and traveled more, relishing the great museums and fine cuisines that various cities had to offer rather than seeking hiking trails or the great outdoors. It wasn’t until lung issues arose with my husband that “exercises” became essential for him. Since I was taking him several times a week to a specific program thru’ the YMCA, I decided to take advantage of a three month trial in the regular programs. The first place they showed me was the pool. Now, I know the wonderful benefits that aquatic workouts can produce, but that was not even a consideration for me as I don’t like the water let alone the smell of chlorine. So, I was taken into another area and introduced to what I can only describe as modern-day torture machines. I simply was astounded and dismayed by the gyrations, pulling, pushing, grunting and sweating that was going on amongst all these people. The room was filled with contraptions of every kind—none of which was suited to my very short height. On one of them, I only went backward and constantly felt like the hamster in its cage, But, persevering, I did find the treadmill almost enjoyable. Perhaps it was the total mindlessness of it but I would hop on it, do my suggested three miles per hour settings but then would find two “twenty somethings with sleek bodies” on each side of me running like gazelles on their treadmills. Not a bit motivating! I did spend an inordinate amount of time neurotically cleaning everything I touched in there with the Clorox wipes that were available and this was a full decade before one ever heard of Covid. I then did the “Silver Sneakers” class twice a week but by the third week I had the routine nailed except for those “resistant stretch bands” that always seemed to perplex me! By the beginning of the third month of my trial period, it was more than apparent that I would never become a gym rat—is anyone surprised that I did not continue? I did however, purchase a used home treadmill but unfortunately, because of foot issues, was used less and less for its intended purpose and more and more as a great place to place things temporarily. (Eventually, that was given away.) I even did Tai Chi—a beautiful set of slow motion movements done with purpose. The class was a challenge to both me and my instructor who had to remind me several times that I was taking Tai Chi, not tap dancing! I also took a three week “Intro to Yoga” class but failed the humming part.

Now we are back to the present state of this aging body and the question is what’s next?? My research says that since I am into my 80’s with joint and back problems, I am given a break from the 10,000 steps routine that is the current rage—good, I don’t have to rush out to purchase a Fitness Tracker Ap for my phone or wear a step counter. Suggestions offered include walking thirty minutes five times week, increasing the intensity if possible and can even benefit by breaking that into three ten minute intervals. Surely that is doable. Other suggestions include Chair yoga—a healthy, low impact series of movements to build strength and flexibility. Definitely easy to try as it is offered where I reside and I don’t have to leave home to do it! However, I am a realist and the other suggestions such as water aerobics, pilates, body weights, dumb bells and resistant bands are simply not going to happen! So, I am down to two of the seven suggestions—surely I can actually succeed.

Wish me luck! Given my past experiences with exercise, I need it!