My two-cents worth and then some. An online journal by LP Brown.

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More Boomer Remedy for Aches and Pains

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“You know you’re getting old when everything hurts. And what doesn’t hurt doesn’t work.” Those words of Hy Gardner, former columnist for the New York Herald Tribune could be prophetic for sedentary Boomers who choose to live an inactive lifestyle. But that doesn’t have to be your reality. If feeding your face and pushing buttons on the remote control is your only daily exercise, and you have more aches and pains than a quarterback abruptly sandwiched between two linebackers, then there may be a simple solution. Get off the couch and move. Word up from this Baby Boomer – exercising not only improves your quality of life, it can be fun.

Each morning, when I awake, I look forward to working out, because exercising has become an essential part of my life; in conjunction with reading fitness books and magazines.

I enjoy the challenge of pushing myself and I have the battle scars to prove it. Just 10 years ago, I enrolled in a cardio kick boxing class and completed it unscathed. Okay, I lied. I got one minor injury, but was soon over it. In no time at all I was able to tap my foot again while listening to R. Kelly sing Step in the Name of Love.

Long distance walking is one of my favorite activities. For over two decades, I participated in numerous walk-a-thons supporting various causes like Breast Cancer, Osteoporosis, and the annual Fannie Mae Help the Homeless Walk. A 5 to 10 mile walk was a piece of cake for me – minus the calories. That was before I was recently ambushed by a torn cartilage in my right knee requiring arthroscopic surgery. Bummer! That curtailed my long distance walking. But while recuperating from the surgery I continuing doing cardio using Lisa Erickson’s Seated Aerobic Workout video. Need I say that where there is a will there’s a way?  

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Boomer Remedy for Aches and Pains

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Exercise HulaAccording to the U.S. Census Bureau Baby Boomers were born between 1947 and 1964. That puts us between the ages of 47 to 65. And while it has been said that Boomers want to have it all, you can bet your tie-dyed jeans and love beads that at this stage of our life, basic health and physical strength are at the top of our wish list. How do we make that wish come true?  Exercise. It makes us feel good and look good, too.

Who doesn’t like being complimented on how well we look for our age? And admit it; it just makes our day when someone says that we look younger than we really are. But narcissists excluded, I don’t know anyone who would honestly say, “I’d rather look good than feel good.” Because all the Botox, wrinkle fillers, and hair pieces in the world don’t mean a thing if you go through life everyday feeling like you were body slammed by Hulk Hogan.

Boomer alert! The federal government and the American College of Sports Medicine (ACSM) recommend 30 minutes of exercise five times a week.

Years ago, I began exercising with Richard Simmons and Jane Fonda video tapes. Since then my exercise routine has evolved to include a little bit of everything which I will tell you about in a future post. In the meantime, one of my workout role models, 72 year old Jane Fonda is still going strong and looking good. Fonda has osteoarthritis, had knee surgery last year and had a hip replacement in 2005. In spite of all that health drama, she is still working out and releasing exercise DVDs including some this year, age appropriate DVDs for seniors.

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Lessons Learned About Aging As We Age

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I recall reading somewhere that Baby Boomers are in a state of denial regarding our own aging. Umm, is that why funny aging baby boomer videos are being made about us? Regardless of our current age, many Boomers vividly remember our first interaction with someone in their senior years.

I was around 10 years old. My family lived in an apartment building and directly across from our first-floor unit lived an elderly, very fair-skinned Black woman named Ms. Preston. In my mind, I see her as clearly now as I did then. She had a head full of long, silvery white hair. When it was uncombed it puffed out around her face like a lion’s mane and made her seem just as intimidating as any wildcat.

Ms. Preston was widowed, lived alone and she struck me as being an unhappy lady. I cannot remember her ever smiling, though I suppose she must have smiled sometime at someone. Maybe she smiled at her relatives when they came to visit, but I don’t recall anyone else visiting her, just my mom and me.  Sometimes when I was playing outside with my friends, I would see Ms. Preston sitting behind the sheer, white lace curtains at her window just staring into space.

My time spent with Ms. Preston wasn’t exactly a friendly visit. Mom periodically made me go over there and do small chores for her. The widow lady had limited mobility as a result of having had a minor stroke, or so I was told. She liked to keep her apartment tidy and clean, but wasn’t strong enough to do the dusting and mopping, and wash the few dishes that she used and left in the sink. Those things were left for me to do, for which Ms. Preston usually paid me a dime. 

At that time, I guessed Ms. Preston was about a hundred years old, but I was a preteen then and anyone older than twenty-five seemed old to me. Looking back, I believe she may have been around 80. I am sure that she must have had some mobility, enough to allow her to take care of her most personal needs, but in all my memories of her, she is always seated on the side of her unmade bed, shoulders sort of hunched forward, one arm hanging limply at her side and wearing either a pastel colored nightgown or a light robe.

Apparently, she was unable to comb her hair, because often she would ask me to do that, too. She had very long hair for an old Black lady, and unlike in these contemporary times when just about everybody from preteens on up is wearing someone else’s hair in one form or another, Ms. Preston’s hair was her own. “Comb it harder.” she often said. “I’m not tender-headed.” Then, not bothering to hide her edginess, she would add, “You are barely letting the comb touch my scalp.” Little did she know that I never enjoyed combing her hair. And I usually stood silently behind her while doing so, so that I wouldn’t have to look into her scary grey eyes. Her cantankerous disposition always reminded me of the Wicked Witch of the West from the Wizard of Oz, and in my young mind she was a witch. That’s also how my playmates and I whisperingly referred to her whenever we played outside.   

Mother instilled in us the same Christian values that she was taught by her parents; live by the Golden Rule and help others. Now that I am an adult, decades beyond that timid little girl, and if I live will one day be the age Ms. Preston was, I better understand her.  And I fully appreciate one of the many lessons of living benevolently that mother insisted her children learn.

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Bouncing Baby Boomers

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In recent days, I’ve been jumping around and opining on a few subjects that were not necessarily relevant to Baby Boomers, but hopefully were interesting. I was bouncing Boomers all over the place, talking about today’s young men wearing their pants beltless; and reviewing the hottest courtroom drama since OJ Simpson’s murder trial. Don’t pretend that you don’t know what I am talking about. Raise your hand if you were not obsessed with the Casey Anthony trial? Uh-huh, just as I thought. 

In addition, I have been devoting significant time to my other blog, Potpourri101. It is drawing more attention than a naked, fat, transvestite belly dancing in front of the White House.

Nevertheless, I am reining this horse back in to topics concerning Baby Boomers — at least until I decide to veer off in another direction.

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Will Casey Anthony Have a Happy 4th of July?

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Fireworks in the sky won’t be the hottest thing smoking this weekend. Unless you have been in solitary confinement or living a monastic lifestyle on a secluded mountain for the last three years, then surely you have heard something about the Casey Anthony trial, which I have been writing about on my Potpourri101 blog.

Anthony is the 25 year old woman charged with first degree murder for allegedly murdering her two year old daughter, Caylee, three years ago. 

Closing arguments on the case begin this morning. If convicted Anthony could receive the death penalty. Depending on whether or not you have closely followed the trial, some of you will look at Anthony and see an attractive, innocent, girl next door. Others will see evil and pretty poison. The jury will decide Anthony’s fate. But whether she coldheartedly killed her daughter or accidentally caused her death is ultimately between her and her maker.

When I look at Anthony, I recall a line from Cherie Carter-Scott’s book titled  If Life is a Game, These are the Rules and I wonder if precisely as the verdict is being read will Anthony be thinking about those words, “In the game of life, why am I the only one who doesn’t know how to play?”

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