Two Different things happened today that have to do with the same thing.

This morning I went to my first ever, and probably last, Over 55 Yoga class. Doesn't the name just make you want to rush to sign up? Yeah well, I'm pretty stiff these days from taking Femara and having bursitis in my right hip, so I thought this was just about my speed. And it was, but I just can't get my head around taking a class for 'old people'!! The teacher was fine and the other student was in worse shape than I was, but it's hardly nice to be happy about that. Perhaps Gentle Yoga would speak more to my soul than Over 55. Most of the time my head is no where near the 60 years it's remaining cells have experienced. As a matter of fact, when I was growing up (and no doubt this where my acceptance problem lies) when you were 60 you were half dead. Yes, I know 60 is the new 40, but remember my head ain't there, so 60 could be the new 25, but I'm still at the old 25...get it?

The other thing that slapped me in the face today was my lack of finger dexterity became painfully apparent as I began to disconnect the cable box to return it, preferably for one that worked. The last time those cables did the righty tighty lefty lucey dance was with a remarkably young and strong technician. In his enthusiasm to please us he I'm sure of it, over screwed the things so that when I needed to unscrew them I couldn't.

I'm standing up on my little step stool that's about as old as I am with my arms twisted around that damn cable box ready to scream. I remembered the first time I changed the oil in my car and how proud I was of accomplishing it, and wondered where that feeling went. Fussing with the cable box, getting up and down on my step stool as I tried various inadequate tools to loosen the blasted cables didn't make me feel proud at all, it made me pissed. Mad the stupid kid had done his job too well, and really pissed that my fingers couldn't grip around the little cable and twist the sucker off. I thought of going downstairs (we live in a condo on the 11th floor) and getting a guy to come up to help, but I reckoned if I futzed with it long enough I'd somehow get it a loose, and I finally did with the help of a crescent wrench.

But it wasn't a sense of accomplishment I felt, it was one of relief that I didn't have to go get someone, and acknowledge my weakness. I know, in those brief moments that slip in, I'm aging, and my body is surely telling me in any number of ways. But if I continue to intend to have a strong, flexible and healthy body my mind will help that to happen, and that's the best.

I've decided to start finger exercises, you know where you pretend to play a piano. There are a whole bunch of funny things to do for your fingers here, in case you might have that problem too. As for my yoga, I am going to find another class with a different name...perhaps Sexy Seasoned Yoga. Got any good ideas for a yoga class title?