I HEART the YMCA. It has been a lifesaver. Following the conclusion of our 5-month post-retirement travel blitz, my subsequent mini-meltdown over what to do with myself, and my husband’s almost tactful suggestion that I get a life, I turned to the YMCA for refuge. Regular exercise is one of those activities that previously fell into my “Something I’ll Do When I Retire” category. I’m finding many of those pursuits were not ignored solely due to lack of time. They are still not appealing now that I have time. Exercise classes at the YMCA, however, have proven to be a godsend.
Every weekday morning I now spring out of bed, excited about walking the short block to the YMCA. I comb the schedule and try a variety of classes. Before retiring, I was never able to make it to classes after work so I was thrilled to try some. Admittedly, I got off to a rough start with my first exercise class, on a Monday morning, called Body Works. The class description read “The ultimate muscular challenge. This class uses hand held weights, bands, step, body bars, and resistance balls. The focus is muscle strength, endurance and body definition by using proper alignment.” Now, at one point in my life I was an aerobics junkie, which I credit with getting me through the summer of my Bar Exam. Obliviously assuming I have the same stamina and abilities I had in my twenties and remembering my doctor’s suggestion that I incorporate weight training in my regimen, I decided this class would be perfect.
The class was not perfect. It started off well enough. The room was full of women, several I knew from around town, and bustling with vivacity. I was absurdly giddy to be out of the house, surrounded by females and the loud beat of music. For the first 10 minutes, I jumped and hopped and lunged and ran in place with the best of them. But it soon became clear I had bitten off more than I could chew. I was gasping for air. As the class progressed, I felt like I was going to die. I decided to dial back and go at my own pace. I replaced jumps with toe taps and lunges with baby steps. Fortunately for my ego, there was an 80-year-old woman (who I think wandered into the class by mistake) that was having more trouble than me. If nothing else, it was a class in humility.
Next I checked out Yoga. I’d never done yoga, which was another thing on my Retirement List. So that Tuesday I decided on the Yoga Stretch class – mainly since, after my class in humility, it had an “E” for “Easy” next to the title. The class description read “Emphasizes physical and mental relaxation, controlled breathing, balance, proper posture and alignment and flexibility. Develop a keen sense of body/mind awareness.” Great! It was certainly easier than that damn Body Works class, but it was still challenging to achieve and hold the poses, particularly since I am one of the least flexible people on the planet. But, after just one class, I could feel improvement in my joints, posture and relaxation.
Then I tried Gentle Yoga (“Focus on releasing tight muscles, increasing range of motion and stress relief”) with an instructor named Diane. OMG!!!! It was an hour and a half class, which flew by, of pure bliss and when it was over, I felt like I’d had a spa weekend. It was divine – Diane’s soothing voice, the focus on breathing, the gentle stretching and poses, aromatherapy with lavender oil, culminating in an extended time of relaxation and mediation. The worst part was when Diane said it was time to get up and leave.
I also tried two Zumba classes. One was a regular Zumba class and the other Zumba Gold, which is supposedly lower intensity. The class description read “Zumba fused hypnotic Latin rhythms and easy to follow moves to create a cardio experience that is exhilarating and energizing.” The description I would’ve written was, “Impossible to follow moves, requiring too much hips and swiveling and coordination, excessive jumping around and a cardio experience that was alarming and exhausting.” I’m certain my heart rate reached 300 and at one point I glanced around for a defibrillator. I knew I was in trouble when I noticed women wearing Zumba belts, which are apparently designed to accentuate all that hip swiveling. The Gold class was less jumping around, but had more complicated dance moves, and I wondered how the Zumba instructor was able to watch me without laughing. I was that clumsy aging celebrity who is the first to go on Dancing with the Stars.
I have since stayed with the Body Works class on Mondays. I’m determined to get better, and this week I kicked butt the first 20 minutes, which gave me a false sense of competence. Then the [drill] instructor barked orders to go from plank position to standing to plank position to standing, over and over, until I saw stars and heard birdies. I literally came within a resistance ball of passing out in the middle of the class. The first week I learned humility. This week I learned to eat breakfast before class and not show off.
What I have really fallen for is yoga. After I get through Monday and the damn Body Works class, I love, love, love going to my yoga classes. Yoga relaxes me, helps with my stress level, posture and flexibility. It feels so much kinder to my body and psyche than the faster aerobic-style classes. The meditation included gets me centered and calm. I really wish I had discovered yoga when I was working!
The YMCA provides a welcome haven brimming with positive energy. My exercise classes give me incentive to get up and go, get me off to a good start and they impart structure to my day. They offer a social experience where I see friends from the community and I’m meeting new ones. Most importantly, I notice my higher energy levels, improved disposition and a decrease in various aches and pains. I feel better, both physically and mentally. I leave the YMCA after one of my workouts and I’m ready to take on the world. Interestingly, my husband has taken my lead and he is back at the YMCA, too. He even came to a Gentle Yoga class with me. Why didn’t I do this before? When I REALLY had stress in my life?