As mentioned in an earlier post my walking schedule has had to change due to the sweltering June heat.
The promise of higher temperatures throughout July and August has motivated Daughts and me to research McKinney for an indoor activity we could do together.
We went along to try a Jazzercise class, a format we were both familiar with from a few years back.
We signed up for the summer special.
A super deal made even better by the fact that Daughts only had to pay half price because we were family!
I now have the option to do an hour’s exercise in the controlled temperature of a room full of women heel hopping, ball-chaining and grape-vining to pop music that would motivate the most sluggish amongst us.
Together we have enjoyed evenings and mornings for the last four weeks.
Alas, my feet have not!
For some reason, after the first week, my ankles began to creek and I found I could no longer manage the high impact jogging, skipping and shasaying.
In fact I was finding it difficult to even walk around the house and blamed my shoes.
I bought a new pair but they didn’t help, I was hobbling…next step…walker I thought!
I began to feel like an old lady, parring down my dance moves to low impact, unable to leave the ground for fear of losing my balance and my dignity in front of everyone including Daughts!
I had no choice but to modify and began feeling my age. I hoped my body would soon adapt to the new exercise regimen because I wasn’t feeling particularly great about myself…
In fact I was feeling like mutton dressed up as lamb and there was no question in my mind that I was the senior amongst the juniors, especially with daughter in tow.
“Perhaps it’s this gravel road,” Hubs offered kindly on one of our early morning walks. He can sympathize because his knees complain mercilessly about the uneven surface.
“I’ve been doing it every day for the best part of a year,” I responded, “and never had a problem. It must be the hard floors at the centre and the unaccustomed jarring I’m subjecting my feet to each time I jump.”
He nodded in agreement.
“And perhaps my age has something to do with it,” I added.
“Pshaw!” He grunted as he struggled to keep up with me.
It went on for weeks and I began to dread the problem would become chronic as it had in 2000 when I awoke feeling as though I’d moved a roomful of furniture on my own. My back-ache still persists 16 years on so what’s a couple of cranky ankles thrown into the mix? I can still Jazzercise in a wheelchair can’t I?
Then, as quickly as the aches came on my ankles stopped hurting. I didn’t notice it at first…it just felt normal until Hubs asked,
“How are your feet?”
“Better!” I crowed.
I no longer wince when I stand up first thing in the morning.
No more skulking for me in the back of the class figuring out how to do a triplet without tripping,
My heart says, “Woo-hoo!” and I say,
“Whew! Maybe I’m not that old after all!”
Well hello there! My name is Vivienne McNeny.
I am an empty nester exploring life as a Boomer…you could say I'm happily Boomering along!
As a homeschooling Mum I have finally quit the job of role model and mentor to my four children. I do what I want to do, eat when I feel like it, enjoy life with my blue eyed cowboy and clean my house once a month or so whether it needs it or not!
In true English form I write about the emergence of my true identity now that I can no longer hide behind my children as their Mum.
No comments so far!
2016-07-20 20:59:46
Old! Ha! Thats just a myth!. Your young and vibrant.
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