Well, down here in the desert it's been a busy day. As I recover from a nasty virus which got way, way too friendly with my heart, I am getting back on track with the trainer.
Now here's the thing. My mother was very ill all of my childhood, and scared of everything, which meant I was barely ever let out of her sight, except for school. Certainly going out to play with other kids was out. I mean, only in late adulthood did I discover that I was perhaps, for real, the only child who was never, ever allowed on the monkey bars, or the climbing frame, or anything else for that matter.
Add to that the fact that I was, from the age of 7, the family's designated carer (as in doing all the cooking, etc. etc.) - well, you can see that I ate lots, read tons, and exercised not at all.
With retirement came, at last, the time to do something I'd wanted to do forever - namely get me a personal trainer. (They are really an economical option down here in the desert- wouldn't want to try it in a major city!) Enter Brigid Pass, trainer extraordinaire. German, past professional body builder, specialist in working with elderly.
We began with the extra-light broomstick, I kid you not. But I love to push envelopes (those who know me will attest to that) -- so now, suck it up people, I use 30 lb. free weights (dropping down with 25, 20, 15, 10), 20 lb. on each ankle for leg work, etc. etc.
Who knew? I've got great (if totally unused) muscle mass. Indeed, as Brigid has often said to me, if only they'd got hold of me 50 years earlier, I would, these are her words, "have been Miss Olympia for sure for three or more years! You would have been unbeatable."
Now, as a retired minister, that sure is an alternate life to contemplate!