UNFIT WOMAN

 I am not fit. I am unabashedly, unashamedly, unfit. I am seriously out of shape. When I drop something the thought of bending down to pick the item up traumatizes me. If I bend down I may not be able to straighten up. I may end up on the floor. Stuck. Frozen in time. If the blood hasn’t rushed to my head and I’m still conscious, I may be wondering where my cell phone is. (That’s another problem for another day, forgetting my cell phone, my connection with the world. People who live alone should always have their cell phone with them. I’m told.)

Obviously, the solution to this problem is simple. Start exercising. The Council on Aging always has different exercise workouts in their programs. Every city, town and the internet boast different exercise classes. Personal trainers abound. There’s no excuse for my lack of fitness.

In my fifties I walked…everyday, rain or shine for at least two miles. In my sixties, I did aerobics with a friend. We liked the music. But when that changed. Well, since my seventies I’ve been remiss.

Although, I’ve been to Tai Chi for six sessions. And I also attended one balance class. The thing is I get bored too easily. That may be because I have a bit of undiagnosed AADD - Adult Attention Deficit Disorder. My attention wanders. I’d rather be writing. Or reading.

But I’m not one for giving up. I usually circle the challenge for a few days, or weeks, before narrowing down on a solution. 

So I have resolved to join the masses and become more fit. Some who think I may be too old to start now (into my 80’s) will have to acknowledge exercise is the very best thing for one’s health no matter how old. It’s number one. So, I am going to buy a cute little exercise outfit and start at home with chair/couch yoga. Soon. Wish me luck!