My fitness goal is "functional old lady"I don't care about winning races or closing rings. I just want to stay upright.
DURING HIS WORKING YEARS, my dad woke up at 4:30am every weekday¹ to exercise in our cluttered, unheated laundry room (it’s the room beyond the ajar door pictured above). He did a self-styled routine of stretches, calisthenics, and strength work he’d refined over the years. His only equipment was a set of hand weights he made by lashing together short segments of copper cable with electrical tape.² Dad couldn’t understand why anyone would waste money and time joining a gym unless they were a professional athlete. He also shook his head at the “need” for exercise clothing. “Why buy special clothes to exercise? Just wear your pajamas!” (See above.) Exercise was an unquestioned part of Dad’s daily health hygiene, like brushing his teeth. It was just what he did, without fetish or fuss. Like any self-respecting teenager, I rolled my eyes at Dad’s quirky exercise regimen. These were the years of leotards and leg warmers! The Jane Fonda Workout and Jazzercize! It never occurred to me to take on Dad’s habit and besides, I already had to endure daily PE. As an adult, I was active and gravitated toward healthy food, but never committed to regular exercise. My weight fluctuated over the years but my health was always fine, so I just didn’t think about it. After I hit menopause, however, my numbers started sliding in the wrong direction. I visit my mom’s retirement community pretty often, so I spend more time with elders than I used to. I’ve become familiar with the typical changes of old age. From this vantage point, I can fully appreciate what Dad’s modest-but-consistent investment in himself added up to become. He was not without health problems as he got older, but he maintained the posture, strength and mobility of a much younger man into his 80s. I’m approaching the age Dad was when he retired. I finally, finally I get it. Now, most days, I exercise. It took years to settle into an exercise routine. I wish I could say it was easy for me, but it wasn’t. I tried several gyms, DIY home workouts (like Dad), classes, trainers, a running group. I like exercise (seriously, I do), I have the time to do it and I’m married to a former “indoorsman”-turned-avid-rock climber. With all these advantages and an example like Dad you’d think something would stick, but it didn’t. Habit-formation has always been hard for me. Last year my friend Giyen invited me to work out with her at her gym (a nearby Planet Fitness) and we’ve been gym buddies ever since. Having a friend to work out with has changed everything.³ Giyen’s committed and knowledgeable, and she and I are both morning people, so it totally works, and we have a blast. On the mornings we don’t want to drag ourselves to the gym, we mock-complain in the car (“whose stupid idea was this??”) and go anyway. I’m finally making progress toward a fitness goal that truly matters to me: functional old age. Much as I admire athletes (Alysa Liu reruns, anyone?), my goals are more modest. I want to be an old lady who can walk around, lift things, put on my shoes, and get up off the floor. If my aches and pains are tolerable and I have the stamina and curiosity to try new things, I’m on the right track. A daughter’s hero-worship aside, it’s important to acknowledge that how we age is not entirely under our control. Sure, many chronic illnesses are lifestyle-related, but we also live in a world of chance. We’ve all heard stories about the healthy 65 year-old who died in her sleep, and the guy who lived into his 90s on a diet of rare steaks and martinis. Let’s also not discount living conditions. Dad had every reason to take pride in his habits, and he also had access to quality food, clean water, fresh air, sufficient retirement income, medical care, and health insurance. That’s not the case for everyone in America, especially right now. I say all this because, more and more, I’m hearing cultural signals that associate health and fitness with moral superiority. Similarly, illness and even the natural effects of aging increasingly (indirectly, insidiously) get connected to laziness, irresponsibility and personal failure. Needless to say: these associations are outrageous and harmful. In their most extreme nationalist versions, they’re literally fascist. We need to push back whenever we hear these messages. I think of my workouts like lottery tickets. The more I buy, the better my odds of 🎟️ strength training 🤞🏽👵 🗄️ RELATED READINGIn the Self-care archive:
🔗 NOTES OF NOTE
Do you think about functional old age or sustainable exercise? I’d love to hear in the comments. Or just share a quirky story about your parents! Happy Friday, friends. Spring is coming. 🌷
Thanks for reading. If anything I’ve written here speaks to you, please share it with a friend, mention it on Notes or another social platform, or even just tap the ♡. Your participation is the best kind of support. 1 Years into Dad’s retirement I discovered he only got up at that ungodly hour because of his hour-long commute to work. 2 Dad was an engineer, and the cables were probably scraps from a jobsite. He eventually switched to dumbbells but only because we forced a small set on him for his birthday. 3 This explains my effortless commitment to fifteen years of daily walks with my dog. I had trouble sticking to my own exercise routine but never missed his walks.
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Friday, March 6, 2026
My fitness goal is "functional old lady"
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