I just moved for the second time in two months. In fact, as I sit here writing this, I am surrounded by boxes of stuff that, after packing/unpacking/shuffling/managing, I’m not sure why I even own. But that’s another story for another day.
You know your friends are kickass when they help you move. On Saturday, mine were especially kickass — I taught two group exercise classes back-to-back (and they were right there with me, taking the classes) and then (after fueling up with iced coffee) we went to my place and started moving. Because this is me and the state of my life lately, this wasn’t an ordinary move — no, it was complicated by the fact I was switching apartments with the guy who lives across the hall.
Oh, no big deal, you think. Easy — no stairs, no truck, just moving from one side of the hall to the other. Well, it turns out it’s not that easy. It means moving two apartments worth of furniture, kitchen stuff, etc., simultaneously.
I wish I had video of my friends Julie and Novilla moving couches, tables, bureaus and more into the hallway, then making room in the targeted apartment by moving other stuff out, and then putting the furniture in its new spot. It was like: get out of our way guys, we’re getting this stuff handled! For better or worse, get out of our way they did. It was awesome, in an exhausting kind of way.
Age is a tender subject to bring up, but let’s just say we’re all hovering near the power-surge stage of life. Not to mention the fact the tallest of us stands five-feet, two-inches.
One of the things about entering this stage of life is that you can feel like you’re battling to keep every bit of strength and fitness you possess. I am pretty sure that’s not a gender-specific phenomenon. I might be especially sensitive to this topic because I work in fitness – a youth-conscious business, no matter what people involved in it might say. It’s a fairly demanding job that requires me to be fit as I help people gain/regain/maintain a healthy and active lifestyle. I’m on the front line of this battle every day both personally and professionally. And the truth is, sometimes I feel better about the war than others.
Seeing my friends kick ass at getting stuff done was pretty awesome. It drove home to me that you’ve got to stay in the fight because if you don’t, you lose ground fast. It’s like they say: use it or lose it. This has nothing to do with having a flat stomach or tight triceps (although being physically fit and strong goes a long way toward that). A year ago I set goals for things that — universe willing — I want to be able to do when I’m 60. And I know one thing for sure: I need to make sure I can do them now if I’m going to do them then. That’s something to think about as you one day wage your own battle. What do you want to be able to do? Can you do those things now?
(Deadlifts and pullups figure into my personal plan. In my book they are the emperor and empress of all exercises.)
I don’t want to speak for Julie or Novilla, but I know they’re dug in when it comes to this war, too. That way, when we have to use it, we can — but hopefully not to move anyone, anywhere at any point in the near future.