About the only times I’ve really spent any money on myself
to get in shape throughout the years is for gym memberships and yoga. I think
I’ve belonged to a gym three times in my adult life, for about a year each
time. The first time was post-first baby, when I lived in Southern California. I
joined a gym and had a one-time appointment with what was called a “fitness
trainer” and then I was on my own. I did the circuit three times a week and
then hit the treadmill. It was a yawn, but I slowly got myself back into shape.
Fast forward 12 years, when I got divorced. I decided that shedding
230 pounds was not enough; I needed some muscles. Again, I joined a local gym.
Again, I was highly motivated. I knew I had to get “back in the game” as they
say, but the other thing driving me was my desire to be strong, and take care
of my children. As a single mom, I knew it would fall on me to carry sleeping
children from the car, up the stairs and into the house; I would need to pack up the
car to go camping, lift bikes into the truck and boxes of wine into the
shopping cart, all by myself. Then, I got married for the second and last time, and while I've managed to keep myself up fairly well, there's a new motivation for exercising: Ol' broad Menopause is gaining ground.
A couple years ago, I started doing yoga. My body changed
rapidly and I had tone where before there had been little. Plus, I really enjoyed
it. I was doing the right thing for my back, which happens to be chock-full of
issues: degenerative joint disease, mis-alignment, arthritis, etc. Keeping the
muscles in my core strong will counteract the effects of the arthritis in my
spine, my doctor said. I also began running about five years ago, but my back
doesn’t like running, and it doesn’t like sitting either, which I do a lot of
as an editor and writer. So lately, I’ve been at a crossroads; my yoga teacher
moved away, I got busier at work, and as a result, I have fallen out of my yoga
routine. But time marches on, and so does peri-menopause. (For those of you
with a penis, that’s the period of time before actual menopause.) It’s the time
when hormones start tinkering with a woman’s body and mind; moods shift
unexpectedly; muscle tone begins to change, and wine consumption rises sharply.
Of all people, it was my 16-year old son that asked me about it recently.
“Mom, I was watching ‘That 70’s Show’ the other day and the
mom was going through menopause. The husband said she was having ‘mood swings.’ She
was super nice one second and the next second she was screaming like a maniac
and then she was back to being nice, in like three seconds.”
“Yep. That about sums it up.”
“Are you in menopause?”
“Nope, but it’s gaining on me. Those same symptoms are
starting to happen to me.”
“How do I know which mood you are in?”
“Just don’t be an a-hole, ever, and we’ll be good.”
“When am I ever an a-hole?”
“Well, you know when I ask you to put your clothes away and
you mumble, “yeah,” but then you don’t do it?”
“Yeah.”
“A-hole.”
“You know when I’m about to put dinner on the table and you
chase the dog through the kitchen?”
“Yeah.”
“A-hole.”
“But that’s just me being a kid.”
“You asked me.”
“Are you getting that feeling right now?”
“Yes.”
“I’m going to go clean my room.”
“I’m glad we had this talk, son. I love you.”
“Love you too, Mom.”
So now I’m working out with a personal trainer. It’s not
cheap, but the results come in a fraction of the time. And there’s
accountability: Every week, he watches me do those reps and crunches and lunges
and I need to be better than I was last time. It's also keeping me on the lookout for new and inventive ways to cuss. (Firm) bottom line: I’m highly motivated to stay
ahead of the menopause curve, build muscle and be strong.
After all, those boxes of wine aren’t getting any lighter.
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