How hanging out with “old ladies” helped my “old lady” problem
My sister has it.
My father had it.
I have it–mild spinal curvature–hereditary. It’s never bothered me, except on those occasions when I’d catch a glimpse of myself in a storefront window and be appalled at my old-lady posture.
Over the years, I tried many things to make my back straighter. I was jealous of anyone with perfect posture. I wore some weird things, tried various ergonomic solutions and sought advice from a physical therapist. Nothing helped and the exercises to correct it, did nothing but exhaust me.
Had the condition been more severe, I might have been forced to wear a full body back brace for a few years to correct it. Secretly, every time I saw anyone in one of those, I was a teensy bit jealous.
A chance encounter with old ladies finally provided the solution for my old lady posture.
Friends don’t sign-up friends for time-share presentations–at least if they want to be my friends. So, the day I received an engraved invitation to stay at a posh resort, if I would sit through a 90-minute presentation, I was immediately on the phone to the girlfriend who gave them my name.
Me: You can’t be serious. What were you thinking?
Her: Deb, you have to go.
Me: I hope you got a big screen TV or something really good for compromising our friendship.
Her: It’s on the cliffs, overlooking the water.
Me: C’mon, you can’t honestly think that I’m desperate enough for a weekend away to spend part of that weekend getting a sales blast for something in which I have no interest.
Her: You can walk to the beach.
Me: Hello? We live in San Diego. We can always walk to the beach!
Her: Deb, just say you’ll consider it.
Me: Who are you?? I don’t even know you. It’s going to take time before I can trust you again.
Her: Trust me on this.
The phone call with girlfriend proceeded like that. Not sure, how she did it, but soon after, Beloved Soul Mate and I were checking into a luxury condo at a resort overlooking the Laguna coast. I had 48 hours, less 90-minutes, to kill or fill.
It wouldn’t be hard, as each evening, a bulletin of countless activities was delivered for the following day. It was rather like being on a dry-docked cruise. At the top of the list for the first morning was a 6:00 a.m. Pilates class.
I’d heard the buzz about Pilates, so I figured I’d go hang out with all the SoCal beautiful people and learn the secrets behind those amazing beach bodies.
Except it wasn’t like that.
At 5:45 a.m., I walked into one of those ballrooms with an over-the-top chandelier. The room appeared to be filled with well-heeled dowagers–many of them sporting those shiny nylon jogging suits middle-age men in New York still wear. The median age seemed to be around 65, a glance at them caused me to do a pivot worthy of Kobe Bryant. This was not MY peer group. I was almost out of there, when I paused to consider my options. I didn’t have anything better to do and Beloved Soul Mate wouldn’t even be awake for a couple hours.
That hour passed quickly and pleasantly enough. Nil impact, no sweating, shoes not required–everything about it appealed to me and it didn’t seem that hard. I made friends with a couple of blue-haired ladies and we shared some laughs as we worked our core muscles.
When the class was over, I was non-plussed. No big deal, until I started walking back toward the elevators, I realized my spine felt amazing. Capturing a glimpse of myself in the large gilt-framed mirror in the foyer, I realized my back was looking more dancer, than dowager. That little work-out set me straight. I was a convert.
Upon my return home, I immediately sought out a Pilates class. I have been a huge fan ever since, and can’t resist talking it up to friends–but, life got complicated for a couple seasons and going became impractical. Last week, as I was telling someone about how much I love Pilates, I realized I couldn’t even remember how long it had been since I’d been–so long that I couldn’t even remember the instructor’s name. Was it Kiara? Nicole? Chandra?
I knew talking about it didn’t carry much weight, if I wasn’t actually doing it, so this week I ended my hiatus with a return. It was immediately apparent to me that I’d stayed away too long, as I didn’t remember it being so hard, but having finally gotten back to it, I can’t believe I ever stopped.
That single hour with the older gals changed my life. Makes me wonder what might have happened if that morning’s activity had been a pole-dancing class.
6 Responses to “How hanging out with “old ladies” helped my “old lady” problem”
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My friends wife ran a pole dancing class for years. I sat in to write about it. It was awkward.
I love the conversation with your friend. Great stuff.
When I was in Vegas once with an old girlfriend (old meaning she’s not my girlfriend anymore…not that she’s a blue hair)…as we were going to buy show tickets that were $89 each, a man called me over. I thought he was going to try to sell me some expensive China white heroin or something. He said he’d give me the tickets free, if I went to a “presentation.” I said “Absolutely not. I don’t need some hardcore sales pitch.” The guy told me it would be two hours, in air conditioning, and they’d provide lunch. My girlfriend said “Hell, let’s go.” It was the best decision we ever made. EVER!
I now have a beautiful time share in Des Moines, Iowa…okay, not really.
But, the sales pitches were hardcore, but the main guy was funny, so it was entertaining. We knew we would continue to say “no,” to ANY question. Even if they said “Do you like vacations in Hawaii?” No.
Do you like not paying for hotels? “Uh…yes, but not if that means I pay $200 for some home owners fee for a place I don’t really own, just get to stay in for two weeks out of the year.”
When they asked me how much I’d pay for this suite on the strip in Vegas, I said “I stay at my daughters house in Las Vegas, or…I’ll pay $45 a night at a hotel. And I only stay for 3 or 4 days. If you can beat what $45 a night, for 3 days is…I’ll consider. Otherwise, don’t waste your time.”
They brought another sales person over, who said “Here are your free show tickets, you guys are free to leave.”
It was friggin awesome. An hour and a half in air conditioning, eating free food, and getting free show tickets.
Even a schicksa like me likes that story.
I was quite entertained by this blog…especially your conversation with your friend!! I may be inspired enough to give another “go” to Pilates, but I really want the spa/resort environment. (I just had a visual of the “blue-haired” ladies on their tummies, lifting their hands and legs and doing the “swim”, and it totally amused me).
Nothing quite like hanging out with sixty-year old women with six packs!
Nothing quite like hanging out with sixty-year old women with six packs!
Tell me about it girlfriend! Being the oldest person at a concert makes a person feel old, but that’s nothing in comparison to the inadequacy of being out-Pilated by the senior set!