Not so gently...

When I was in my 30s and 40s, I belonged to a health club in Eden Prairie called Flagship. This was a fancy club with all sorts of posh amenities like warm towels, fancy soaps and lotions, and dressing rooms that made you feel like you wished your house could be as nice. Those were the days when workout attire was posh as well, and women at Flagship arrived in expensive, colorful leotards with matching sports bras and tights. The aerobics classes were very popular and the goal was to sweat long and hard while looking stylish.

My favorite aerobics class back then was rebounding. Rebounding was simple: you bounced on a mini-trampoline for an hour as music blasted. The instructor, wearing her little microphone attached to her colorful outfit on her amazing figure, encouraged you to lift those knees higher and higher. You not only bounced sky-high wishing your legs could look like hers, you found yourself high on endorphins very quickly. After a few years, the club called Flagship got rid of the rebounding class because people kept flying off and breaking their ankles. My heart broke when they did this. I dropped my club membership, saved a bundle of money, and took up the inexpensive sports of walking, biking, or cross country skiing around Lake Harriet, a few blocks from my house. I used to joke that I should have my ashes dumped in Lake Harriet because I have gone around it so many times.

Today, the club Harry and I belong to is not posh by any means, but it does have the advantage of being a five-minute drive from our condo. It is inexpensive, and you have to bring your own towels. I tried Pilates and Spin classes for a few months when we joined LA Fitness a year ago and then the arthritis hit and I had to change course. We had a wonderful personal trainer for several months, but Harry and I broke down physically when we returned from Mexico, and Joe had moved on to a better paying job. We spent several months on the couch nursing our aches and pains. Harry had taken a bad fall playing racquetball with his dear friend Brian, (or boy friend, as Brian's wife Vicki might refer to the relationship), and I had come down with an arthritic neck and knee. (By the way, tonight we're cooking fancy Italian from the cookbook Ivan and Joanna gave us for Christmas, in honor of Brian and Vicki's 25th wedding anniversary: congratulations, y'all. By the time they reciprocate, Harry will be in his mid-80s, and they'll have to make porridge!) After a few months, we decided it was time to get up off the couch. We now have been training twice a week for two months with a young woman named Alexandra, and I swim or use the elliptical machine or treadmill another two days each week. Harry walks on water: a secret gift that, he has decided, it is now time to reveal to the world (though I've always known that about him).

Alex is in her early twenties and her positive personality and knowledgeable style have been a true blessing at this time in our lives. Finding the motivation to exercise is extremely difficult, but knowing Alex is expecting us gets us out the door. Alex seems to have a lot of older clients, and she told Harry her parents, who are in their early 60s, do strength training every week. She is gentle and kind but tough as nails. I find myself doing exactly what she tells me to do even though it is so hard. In the two days following a 30-minute session with her, I experience pain in muscles I never knew I had. Swimming on the days I don't work-out with Alex helps with those aching muscles. My chiropractor told me swimming is the best exercise for arthritis. The reality is you have to keep moving even when you have arthritic pain. Not always the easiest thing to do.

In my thirties and forties, my exercise goal was to lose weight and look good in those colorful exercise outfits. Now, a couple of decades later, my goal is just to keep moving. How things change! My exercise attire is all black because it helps you look thinner, and it is anything but stylish. In fact I look pretty frumpy-dumpy and I couldn't care less. On a bad day when it is difficult to move toward my goals, I summon some motivation by reminding myself that I have two maternal aunts who are close to ninety and still going strong. Neither of them has arthritis, but I may have their longevity genes. The thought of being able only to sit in a chair for a decade, or more like Harry's mom who has arthritis in her knees and is unable to walk, scares me to death. How would I get out to go shopping?

Everyday movements have become easier now. Just getting up off the floor without help or putting on my shoes without pain is a major accomplishment. Even on the days when the last thing I want to do is swim or workout with Alex, I do it because I know what will happen if I don't. Once I get to the club and start to work out, those endorphins kick in and I have a lot less overall pain. The arthritis hit me fast and hard and I figure I have to hit back just as fast and hard or it will take me down.

I am also, as my father used to say, "living better through chemistry." I have searched the web and talked with my doctor, chiropractor, and future son-in law Curtis, the health guru, about medications that may help. I am now taking almost as many pills a day as Harry. I am also drinking alkaline water. Curtis and my Cabo friend Liz believe less acidity is a key factor to combating your body's natural tendency to deteriorate. Actually, only one of the pills I take is prescription. The others capsules I swallow each day are over the counter: fish oil, flax oil, glucosamine/chondroitin, B-Complex with vitamin C, and calcium with vitamin D-3 suggested by my chiropractor. I now wear only shape-up shoes which improve my slumping posture and seem to help to stabilize my arthritic neck. I bought a contour pillow that seems to help too. I hope my exercise regime is helping the muscles in my leg prepare for the inevitable knee replacement that so many of us baby boomers will be facing. Getting old is a lot of work!

If nothing else, I am not settling into that easy chair or onto that couch without a fight, or as Dylan Thomas said, "do not go gently into that good night." Lake Harriet may get my ashes someday, but those ashes will be from an old, but toned body.

PS. I know I'm old because I talk so much about my health!