Middleaged Muscle Building

“You’re stronger than you think!”

That’s what Shay said to me, over the booming gym music, as he helped me lift two 15-pound weights while I was in an elevated bridge pose in his 5:15 p.m. Flex class.  Shay was leaning over me, his face upside down.  I gave him a breathy laugh and said, “No, I’m not!” I immediately hoped I had brushed my teeth before class because I just breathed in his face.  I also hoped I wasn’t carrying COVID or anything, but bad breath – that’s what came to mind first as I continued lifting those heavy to me weights.

Chris had stumbled upon his class a couple of weeks earlier and now I was joining him for the first time. When I first entered the room and noticed the different stations and weights, I turned to Chris and asked if we could go to McDonalds on the way to the Emergency Room.  I figured that was where I would be heading after one of my limbs gave out.

But I made it through the whole class! Which is good because I needed to be there.  I have needed to get my shit together for real, for quite some time.  I had just received a scary Fitness Genes report telling me that, as I suspected, I am indeed taking after my father in all the wrong ways.  My father died at 47 of a heart attack. I don’t have that on my list of things I really want to do. Kicking the bucket is not on my bucket list.

I’m gonna keep going to Flex class.

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