The desire to delay the aging process is remarkably powerful. So powerful that it can entice someone my age – okay, me – to undertake an exercise program that, before started, sounds like a good idea. And then, once it’s started, someone my age – okay, me – realizes that the aging process is already in full swing.
It all started last month when the daughter of a friend announced her upcoming marriage next spring, and asked if I would perform the ceremony. That’s a nice part of my job as municipal judge. Instead of asking people if they are guilty or not guilty, I get to ask people if they do. Well, I thought that if I wanted to look good in the wedding pictures, I should get some more exercise.
Most days, I walk two miles on my treadmill, which is set conveniently in front of the television. That way, I can entertain myself by watching the Food Network, or re-runs of “Monk” or “Columbo,” or Christmas movies on the Hallmark Movie Channel. A couple of times a week, I take a yoga class that is more stretching than aerobic. Once a week, I take a more strenuous yoga class that gets my heart rate up, making me anticipate with relief collapsing into “shavasana,” or “corpse pose,” that comes at the end of the session.
To add to that routine, I decided to try a class that my young friend Kate enthusiastically suggested: bodypump, an aerobic weight-lifting program that for an hour, at five or six minutes per segment, moves through a series of exercises using a barbell and weights. The exercises are demonstrated and led on video by muscular men and women whose job it is to make bodypump look easy and fun.
So I enrolled and went to my first class. I put two 2.2-pound weights on the bar, and the music started. After the first segment, I thought, “I can do this! Next time, I can use more weights! Great!”
The second segment was a little more strenuous, but I made it through. Then we got to the squats and lunges. Each of these moves is difficult in its own right, but adding a barbell and weights makes them downright hard. In fact, as we were doing the last set of lunges, I thought, “If I get too far down, I won’t be able to get back up.”
By the time we got to the second set of push-ups, my arms felt as if they were going to fall off, and I quit after three. The buff leaders on the video were still smiling as they did at least 15 more. Fortunately, that set came in the last segment, so I finished still breathing, but breathing hard.
I felt virtuous. I got through it. I would be able to do it again. My age was not going to hold me back!
Then I got home. I reached toward a kitchen cabinet, and zing! My lower back told me that I had celebrated too quickly. Walking became a pain, but I figured moving was better than not moving. I took some Aleve and drank a couple of glasses of water, hoping it would go away. By 9 that night, I was using an ice pack, and for the first time in a long time, I was grateful that when we remodeled the bathroom, we installed a Jacuzzi tub.
At bedtime, the spasm had released, and I could move again. But I noticed that my muscles were getting tight. I went to sleep hoping that I would be able to move in the morning.
I was able to move, though slowly, the next day and the next. But I was glad that the next class was a few days away.
To be truthful, instead of delaying the aging process, this class shows me that the aging process is progressing at its own happy rate. Even so, I feel okay about it, knowing that getting older is inevitable, but, as Dr. Lamy used to say, better than the alternative. And besides, I’m going to be able to get a new dress this coming spring. Now, if my back will just hold out.
