Photo by Bruce Mars on Unsplash.
What do you do when your face says “old” and your tight butt says “firm and fit?”
It’s not that unusual. Recently I read an article about a 99-year-old swimmer named Betty Brussel. She’s a Canadian who learned to swim at a young age. She started swimming competitively in her 70s.
In my book, I write about Olga Kotelko, a track and field champion all through her nineties.
I also note that you can watch a documentary about “elders” who compete in “senior olympics.”
I’m not trying to say, “Anyone can do what they did.”
Because it’s not true. There are no guarantees. Some people will start training in their 70s and die before they make it past the entry level.
The real lesson is, “There’s infinite variety among people as they get older.” If someone tells you they’re 80, they could be a frail person in a wheelchair, needing lots of help. Or they could be running marathons or collecting medals for track and field
Not everyone who works out is a champion competitor. But they probably have a tight butt and strong legs.
I’ve been getting comments like “At least you show up and try” since I was in my twenties. When I was a child I didn’t even try. I’ll never be good at exercise class. Fit, yes. Enthusiastic, yes (at least most of the time). Good, no. Never.
It shouldn’t be news when someone over 70 or 80 excels in sport. It shouldn’t be news when people over 70 walk around like normal people who don’t need help. And it shouldn’t be news when you have an old face and a tight butt.
In my experience, you’re judged by your face. Strangers assume you need help. Doctors assume your back hurts.
So as I say in my book, don’t look at my face. Look at my butt. Nice and tight in leggings or biker shorts. Feel free to say “Nice butt” as you decide I really don’t need help with that suitcase. Or anything else, for that matter.
I worked hard for this butt. And I want to reap the benefits.
