My wife retired five years ago. Up until the time she retired, her sole fitness activity had been walking. She walked as much as she could at her school, given her long day at the building, and a dedicated fitness walk was a pleasure reserved for weekends. Upon her retirement, she declared that she could finally walk each day like she wanted, and she did. If she is anything, she is consistent. I was happy for her. For two years or so, that was her sole fitness activity, and a good thing it has been.
A couple of years ago, realizing that there is more for her fitness that she might do beyond walking, she ventured into a daily practice of a simple yoga for seniors class online. Her daily walks were later followed by her 25 minutes of yoga, a do-able class length for her in regard to both time and physical challenges. Again, her consistency has been admirable. I am proud of her.
A week ago, rather out of the blue, three months out from turning 71, she joined a fitness center and began a strength routine using the machines there. What is a word for happy and proud and a tad bit incredulous all rolled into one?
My wife is wonderfully future-focused. Life circumstance and choices in combination resulted in her never being a physically active person in any fitness sense. She knew it was time and started on the basis she did. She did not fall into a “why bother” or “it just never became my thing” mindset. Certainly a big motivation for her has been our grandchildren and imagining a future with them. She has been progressively moving into a greater “Grandma Mode” in a good way.
“The best time to plant a tree was 20 years ago. The second best time is now.” I’ve leaned on that Chinese-attributed adage a lot these past fifteen years — first, I think, on a sixty-something-year-old guy who approached me about starting taekwondo, wondering if he should even bother. He said he always wondered about getting his black belt after dropping taekwondo during college. He started classes with us. He took breaks and returned after two different hip replacement surgeries. He earned his black belt at age 68. It was not an easy test. I was really proud of him, on more than one occasion.
Just this week I surprisingly scolded a couple of people who negatively commented on a trainer’s Instagram post about a 64-year-old client of his who has been building up to doing some plyometrics. It showed him hopping and springing and shuffling in different ways. Nothing spectacular compared to much you might see, but certainly more than many 64-year-olds will take on. He was moving pretty good, in my opinion.
One guy who is also older dismissed it outright — what he saw wasn’t impressive enough to highlight, and he himself could do much better at that age. Really? Jerk.
Another guy, even older, didn’t dismiss it so much as make it about himself — his own ability to do all that and more, and how people should really start training earlier in life so they can still do it all when they’re older. He didn’t disrespect the man’s achievement. He just didn’t let it stand on its own; he turned it into a springboard for a different point.
I know why my wife was not physically active in her earlier decades. I know why my black belt never ventured back into taekwondo after college. I don’t know if or why the man in the Instagram reel was or was not active in his earlier years, or if he’d stopped for some reason along the way. What I do know is that I admire anyone who, after standing on the ground, gets up on the horse of the first time, or back on the horse after falling off. Or, to put it a different way, anyone who plants a fitness tree.
My wife getting at it post-retirement: no, she does not at all look the same in her activities as if she’d started them thirty years ago. My black belt student jumping into taekwondo training: he did not look like other students in class. The guy in the reel working with a trainer and working to still progress in his athleticism probably does not look quite the same as a Senior Games medalist in the triple jump.
Yes, if any of them had planted their fitness or activity trees earlier, they would by now have much more full, flourishing, fruit-bearing orchards. But, they didn’t. They also didn’t give into the despair of “why even bother.” They planted.
Whether you planted trees years ago or are just now breaking ground for a first sapling, plant it. My wife just did, three months shy of 71 — full Grandma Mode, machines and all. Someday there will be fruit to enjoy, which she will certainly share with the grandkids.
Grandpa Mode 