My sister Lucy retired from her Crossing Guard job and with me in between jobs; we have more time to hang out together. Lucy and I are in fairly good shape; we walk several miles a day; run after grandkids; leap tall buildings in a single bound…well maybe not leap…more like trip.
Lucy joined a senior citizen center in South Philly that offers exercise classes every day and has a room with all kinds of weight lifting and muscle building equipment. She wanted me to join with her.
“Why should I exercise with a bunch
of old people?” I asked, folding my arms in protest.
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“Because we’re old,” was her
counter. Who me? NAH!
Anyway…I joined the center with her because it was a chance for two sisters, who have been working ever since they were seven years old, to finally do activities together.
Anyway…I joined the center with her because it was a chance for two sisters, who have been working ever since they were seven years old, to finally do activities together.
We signed up for the exercise
classes which included a zumba routine. Most of the women in that class were at
least 80 years old, while the others were closer in age to Lucy and me. The
instructor teaching our class was about my age. Piece of cake, I thought to
myself. Turning towards Lucy, I foolishly said, “This will be easy.”
Wrong!!!!!!
Hells bells and flab on a cracker!
The instructor gave us one heck of a workout. Calling out commands like a drill
sergeant, she had us moving body parts that I wasn’t aware even existed. Lucy
and I were huffing and puffing and falling all over our own feet.
What about those women who were in
their 80’s and I think there was one close to 90? They were doing just peachy
fine; didn’t even break a sweat. WTF!
Lucy and I will continue to go to
the gym every day, but we might wear a disguise, especially
if those old ladies keep laughing at us.
if those old ladies keep laughing at us.
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