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I just finished listening to a podcast hosted by best-selling author Mel Robbins, known for her inspirational self-help approaches to the inevitable challenges of daily life. My daughter introduced me to Robbins’ perspectives and tactics for self-improvement. And I started with ‘How to Stop Caring What People Think of You,' followed by ‘The Let Them Theory,' which encourages letting go of the need to control others.
All strong reminders of what we really know about ourselves and the permission to be who we are. And all great wake-up calls. But occasionally, there’s one that is transformative.
Robbins’ guest on this podcast was Vonda Wright, an orthopedic surgeon whose specialty is sports medicine and is considered an expert on mobility, aging and longevity. The timing of this particular podcast coincided with my receiving my Medicare card, affirming that I’ve now reached that age bracket of 65 and over and realizing there’s no ‘next’ category other than ‘deceased.'
It got me questioning my own agility and fitness boundaries.
At 65, I consider myself in good physical condition and have been athletic all my life, just recently retiring from competitive tennis and taking up pickleball and golf. I routinely walk on a treadmill, recently purchased an electric bike and eat a healthy diet. And yet I still have rolls in my stomach, stiffness in my back and cramping in my legs.
Though my scale remains stagnant, and my figure still requires body-shaping underwear, it begs the question: Am I hitting my shelf life with my workouts?
And the answer is yes.
I remember the era when young women yearned to have the hair and body of Twiggy (hair okay, stick-thin body not). It’s now our goal to move effortlessly on a pickleball court — a sport immensely popular with older women. We once easily navigated our multi-level homes. It’s now increasingly challenging to negotiate the stairs from one level to another without thinking about installing an elevator or moving to a single-story dwelling.
I admit to some vices that may be contributing to body changes: I do look forward to the monthly delivery of the Charles Chips cookies in the yellow metal container, or that third slice of pizza oozing with cheese, or even a second glass of a full-bodied Cabernet with dinner. I work out to lessen the impact of indulgence. Indulgence, though, as I have come to learn, isn’t the only culprit.
Apparently, my workouts of yesteryear fail to recognize my age. Spinning on a bike or walking on a treadmill is not intense enough to stimulate real change for this woman, who just hit Medicare age. While I’ve been clocking miles on the treadmill, my midsection has enjoyed the ride but not the impact. I was recently diagnosed with osteopenia, below-average bone density, and I have noticed new pains while performing daily tasks such as making my bed, carrying groceries and simply getting in and out of my car.
Long gone are the days when the hormonal surge was a boost to our bodies, adding womanly shapes to our butts, hips and breasts. Now, the lack of it is adding another kind of shape — bulges that I would prefer not to see when I look in the mirror.
According to orthopedic surgeon Wright, “Movement is our medicine. With approximately 600 bones in our bodies, we are still designed to move, no matter the age.”
My movement now is focused on purpose rather than distance. Strength training, also known as resistance training, has become my medicine. It requires muscles to contract, nudging our bones into action. This, according to Wright, has been shown to slow down the aging process, all of which impacts our mobility, our frailty and our independence. If done consistently, our bones react to the impact by increasing our muscle mass and our metabolism, circumventing both our estrogen deficiency and the inevitable changes that come with each birthday.
At 65, I have pursued a new path of exercise, with a trainer who monitors my technique, progress and accountability. Twice weekly, I am lifting and curling dumbbells, enduring rounds of stomach crunches, lunges and pushups, and sweating out sets of leg lifts, planks and squats. We’ve combined bands, body and weights. It’s 45 minutes of intense exercise. And when I'm done, every muscle in my body is fatigued, my shirt is soaked with sweat, I’m parched, and yet I feel great!
In just over a month, I have seen more definition in my arms than I have in years. And in just over a month, I feel more energized. My golf swing is more fluid, and the shots are traveling further. My footwork on the pickleball court feels more balanced, and climbing the stairs is far less painful.
I may have out-aged the workouts of my youth, but I’m not resting on my laurels. With parents both in their 90s, I have genes that tell me that I could have a good 30 years of living ahead, and I plan to keep on moving. I believe in the words of Wright, when she says, “Muscles are nature’s Spanx,” — and I’d much prefer to wear those than the ones in my drawer.
What kind of exercise do you try to get each week? Let us know in the comments below.
