Petty Injuries

Really, I do hate to complain. As you age and get together with friends, the conversation invariably turns to health. Such a bore. I have a friend who announces: five minutes on health issues and we're done for the evening. Impressive, as she has more problems than most. Anyway, we stick to her edict, pretty much.

So that leaves me with this blog. Who else am I going to complain to? My kids? They are aware and certainly loving, but busy, busy. My ex? Well, he's a good guy and called when he heard, but still. It's such a minor thing and as I look around at my friends, there are so many serious problems...cancer, heart...the list goes on. So I'll dump my petty injury complaints right here. On you.

It all started in December on St. Lucia. We've been going for 20 years or more and have become friends with the owners of Anse Chastanet. I've written about it several times, but the post most pertinent is HERE, if you care to read it. You won't be surprised to hear I am now the owner of a torn meniscus and if you've read the above, you'll understand. When my youngest son (now 54, ye Gods) suggested he would worry about me on those steps, I was insulted. Me? The workout queen?
I tell you, it's not the going up, it's the going down. I commented to my daughter: I think I'm getting arthritis in my knee. And then thought not another thing about it, proud of myself for going up and down that damn mountain several times a day without having to notify St. Lucian EMS...even if there was such a thing.

So a couple months pass. I'm back on schedule. The knee is annoying, but tolerable. Still thinking arthritis, I ignore it with an Advil or two. Then one day at the gym...pain strikes. Can't walk kind of pain.

I think it's a torn meniscus, says the doctor, nothing is showing in the xray. Let's try the conservative method first. (Which is no more aerobic workouts, no long walks, ice and elevate.) During this time, I suffered painfully through a trip with grandkids to Atlantis. If you've ever been there, you'll know....walk, slide and swim...ouch. Couldn't do it. My DIL actually said: how about a wheelchair? What?! What did she say???? Uh, uh. No way.
So when they left for Michigan, back to the doctor. My life is over, I said. I'm aging just sitting here. I feel it creeping up on me...my DIL suggested a wheelchair. He laughed. Let's try a cortisone shot, he said.
Well, that struck fear in my memory, of an old tennis elbow problem and the shot that followed. Agonizing. A couple close friends had also warned me: cortisone is next for your knee, be prepared. I broke out in a sweat just thinking about it.
I'd worked myself up into such a fervor about the stupid shot that I was amazed how simple it was and damn near painless. It was over before I knew it.
So here I am, a week later. Some improvement, but any kind of torque on that knee is not good. There's a trip to Savannah next week. Lots of walking. On cobblestones. Please, just let me get through that, then I'll face the eventual music: an MRI and some outpatient surgery. Not too bad as I understand it, but I'll keep you apprised.
You won't mind my petty complaining.
Right?

Gym Rant

If I don't hit the gym first thing in the morning, it isn't going to happen. No...I don't like going. Yes, I'm proud of myself after it's all over, but I really hate it and I'm a clock-watcher while I'm there. One thing though....I've never thought it had a damn thing to do with weight. Weight is simply calories in, calories out, period. But hitting the gym makes you feel better, stronger, younger, prouder and no doubt keeps your body in decent shape, muscle-wise, perhaps firmer, but don't expect to lose weight if you continue eating the way you always have. It just doesn't work that way. I'm not self motivated, so I always take classes. Misery wants company. LOL

Gym rats always intrigue me. I leave immediately after class, no hanging about. Some girls spend half their lives there...class after class. Spin, weights, yoga. Perfectly toned bodies. Abs like rocks. I didn't look like that when I was 16 and I was pretty athletic, too. Don't they have lives? Perfection is so boring.

Why is it some instructors actually have followers? I mean they hang around the teacher like lemmings. I'm not talking about just liking the way a teacher handles a spin class, so you take all her/his classes, I'm talking about actual cliques. Do you think they hang with each other outside the gym?

And gym costumes. I'm always suspicious about things that match perfectly. If you're going to work out...just some Danskins and a tee. When we have a sub or a new instructor, I can tell how things are going to go just by what they're wearing.
Makeup at the gym? Whatever for? In case you meet someone? Well, I guess anything's possible. More so at night I should think. So why at 8:30 in the morning would you wear eye liner?! I always wonder if the gym is their social club. Well, forget it....I'm never going to get hit on as I'm way too old for nine tenths of them, let alone I'm always a sweaty mess. Besides, my daughter says I don't throw off any pheromones. (Don't you love it?)

But by God, I go, work out and finish the classes, too. No matter how hard. Step, weights, Zumba. Pretty good for an old broad.

Mirrors

My mother, many years ago, stared at herself in a large mirror in her living room, then turned to me and said: "Who's that old lady in the mirror?" At the time, she was about 85. I smiled, patted her shoulder sympathetically and really didn't give any thought to what she was really saying.
That is....until recently.
You see, now I am on the wrong side of 75. And that lady in the mirror? She is me. Understanding dawns. Yes, that lady in the mirror is what everyone else sees, but not what I see. I see someone 25 or 30. It's difficult to comprehend for those of you who are young, but no matter what the mirror reflects, inside I feel young.
I consider this to be one of Martha Stewart's "good things."

I'm starting this new blog to record thoughts, ideas and memories as I meander into old age. I have become, in fact, a geezer. OMG.
Never fear, I'm just being realistic. You can't deny numbers, but you can sure defeat them.