I guess some people see the blog name Formerly Hot and hear a desperate cry for help. I recently received an email from a 39-year-old woman who wanted to support me in my quest to restore some of my erstwhile hotness. First she introduced herself, and then she described her determination to “fight back” against middle age through fitness.
“I will NOT get old gracefully,” she wrote. “My body is still slamming, and I’m going to keep it that way.” To that end, she kickboxes, strength trains, does “power” yoga, something involving kettlebells (those round things at the gym with handles that look like lead handbags) and runs 25 miles a week minimum. Oh, and she does “at least 300 crunches.” “I am going to KICK MIDDLE AGE’S ASS!” she wrote. She then offered to train me in a similar fashion if I would write about it.
I know she meant well, but frankly she freaked me out. I look younger than my 41 years and I am still relatively funkified fashionwise. But statistically speaking, I am middle-aged, or close to it. It’s my ass that is in the direct trajectory of her athletic footwear.
But more to the point, there was a violence in her word choice–“fight,” “slamming,” “kick,” “crunch”–that reminded me of the adversarial relationship I had with my own body when I was younger. In my teens and early 20s, I saw my body as merely a too-pudgy, too furry, cellulite-riddled obstacle to what would otherwise be an anxiety-free music video of a life.
Now, however, I live in my body. It’s my home. Getting in “slamming” shape by the way she suggests (or in any way, really) would be like detonating a bomb in the living room while I’m sitting at the kitchen table having a coffee and thinking deep thoughts.
I’m not saying my gym routine couldn’t use a goose-up, or that I’m beside myself with glee whenever I catch a glimpse of my less-than-lofty booty in the mirror. If my body is my home, I have a punch list to get to.
So sure, come in and paint my house. You can even re-tile the bathroom and put in new track lighting. But I’m not interested in a floor-to-ceiling renovation. It’s holding up pretty well for a middle-aged house, and I can say that I own it outright.
Photo by: Allan Ferguson, CC Licensed
March 24, 2009 at 9:59 pm
I totally agree! When I was younger, I had low self-esteem and because of that people didn’t think much of my appearance. I’ve matured (I hope!) and now I accept myself for who and what I am. And guess what? Twenty something year old women are not only interested, but actively pursuing me. And no, I’m not wealthy!
Acceptance. That’s what the old generation of “Formerlys” meant all along. Go figure.
March 24, 2009 at 10:19 pm
I so agree! Live in the present, stay alert to the world, try to stay healthy, love worthy people deeply, and stay happy. That seems like a more doable goal for me! One year ago I was a little bummed out about getting older, but now I realize this might be best time of our lives. All the superficial stuff is quickly fading away, and what’s left is better.
March 25, 2009 at 12:52 am
I’m in foreclosure. Damn balloon mortgages. Can I just walk away? I confess I’m partial to the idea of ditching the 40-year-old Cape Cod for a 20-something-year-old condo on Miami Beach. Maybe in Jean-Francis’s neighborhood. (There’s one cat whose prop vals are holding up in the recession.) But . . . would a move like that make me a formerly Formerly?
March 25, 2009 at 9:28 am
I like being in shape so I can DO stuff, especially fun stuff, more easily. As an end in itself, I find it pretty boring. My mom (who still calls me every time she sees something you’ve written in a magazine–she’s a big fan) started working out about 3 or 4 years ago. She’s 73 now and formerly a formerly. She’s got more energy and is much healthier than she was ten or twenty years ago. It is a lot more fun to hang out with her now and she finally feels good about her body after over 60 years of hating it!
So yeah, work out, but do it out of love for you life, not hate or anger!
March 25, 2009 at 9:04 pm
Reminds me of that poem about aging Jewishly. You know the one: “Do not go gentile into that good night.”
March 26, 2009 at 3:12 pm
Hey, I justed wanted to give you a compliment on your blog, keep up the great work. I will be back to check it out in the near future.