The new gym

SG and I recently joined a gym with the intent of getting healthier. Not just any gym, mind you. We don't just want to look buff ('cause, really, who'd be able to stand us then?) This one is geared to the health and wellness of adults who want to take charge of their futures through exercise.

Yep - it's a senior's gym.

I must confess, I wasn't terribly certain how comfortable I would be there. I sat in on a flexibility class at this facility a couple years ago as part of an article I wrote, and let me tell you, those old ladies were dancing circles around me. But we've also hit the age and stage where this is important. And they have a pool.

I was perhaps a little smug about being among the youngest members there. (40 is the lower age limit for the club.) There was a list of things that might reflect poorly on my character if I admitted that I thought I had more of, less of or some of that most of the members there wouldn't. But let me tell you, I learned today that there's one area I'm not lacking enough for this group.

Modesty.

Now, I'm a grown woman. I lived in a college dorm. I've shared rooms with strangers at conventions. I've been through OB exams, prenatal exams and ER-"yes-it's-paper-but-we-call-it-a-robe" exams. And particularly after having given birth (including at a "teaching" hospital), I figured I'd lost a good portion of the modesty a woman is generally endowed with after being raised in a Christian home.

Apparently there's a lot more to lose.

After our orientation in the pool (which is a great place to exercise, btw), I went to get changed. On stepping into the womens' locker room, I ran into more skin hung out to dry than I've ever seen in one place. Even in an art magazine. Or National Geographic. Now that I think of it, the scene was rather Rembrandt in nature. Or maybe Reuben. Regardless, there I was, the bashful little 40-year-old, trying to non-nonchalantly make small talk with naked strangers. Senior naked strangers. And I left with the uncomfortable feeling that they were handling it much better than I was.


It seems I'll have to get used to a few things in order to hang out with this group. Maybe by the time I'm their age, I'll be enjoying the fact that I'm freaking out the little 40-year-old's too.