Note to self: you’re not 20 anymore

It turns out that adding an additional physical activity such as  Thriller choreography for a flash mob, on top of regularly programmed workouts and Latin Ballroom lessons, can be hazardous to the health of a woman now officially in her 50s (gulp). Who should know better.

A combination of not wearing my new orthotics regularly, not stretching adequately, and forgetting that weight management has more to do with cutting back on how much I’m eating rather than how much harder I need to up my cardio game – has resulted in an annoying case of plantar fasciitis and a sore lower back. And overall sore body. I only know what plantar is because I had it eons ago when I was pregnant with the girlie.  Not like I’m a runner or anything.  I’m higher risk just because of my age, smack dab in the middle of 40-60. Lovely.

How unfortunate.   I love my workouts and I just don’t want to cut back on my faves.  I realize that they are super intense, (Combat, kee-yah!) but that’s the fun of it for me.

Working out hard gives me a certain high, makes me feel on top of the world.  I’m usually grinning ear to ear, drenched in sweat, beaming with exhilaration after every workout.  If lucky the feeling can be prolonged if I pop a couple of ibuprofen shortly thereafter.

I’ve also noticed that I recently developed a more than usual fascination with cosmetics.  I’ve worn foundation for the longest time, ever since I started getting cystic acne at the young age of 11.  I gave up on my stubby eyelashes long ago.  But I rediscovered by eyebrows a couple of years ago.  I’ve even gone to one of the top brow bars in the city – thank goodness I hadn’t plucked them totally away, although Cara Delevingne I will never be.  No miracles though.  Contouring, new blushes, better foundation brushes, state of the art mascara brushes,  K Beauty masks … They all beckon with increasing allure, the older I get.

What the heck is happening?  Aging happens and I suppose I’m annoyed with it.

I don’t mean to complain, overall I’m in pretty good health.  I had all the tests that you should have at 50 when I was first off : mammogram – check; colonoscopy – check; bone mineral density – check (which apparently is in good shape because of the gym habit, a good thing). It still sucks, though, to wake up sore not because I was head banging the night before; but because I was sleeping.

So what is an aging girl to do?  Continue hobbling to Sephora while I still can, I guess. And only if I force myself – after all, nowadays it’s often cheaper and easier to do all the online shopping I want from the comfort of my couch.

Sigh.

 

 

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