Exercising Grannie's Fannies

War chest.

I’ve always been into fitness.

Active ranch life.

Sports in school and community.

High impact aerobics as a young mom.

Running--which I discovered I loved more than anything.

Yep. Running and me, we were friends. I was going to be one of those octogenarians you see out at the crack of dawn hoofing it around the town.

But then my knees got involved. In the worst way. They gave out.

So I slowed my pace to a walk.

Then my hips followed my knees.

I cycled for a time, but that didn’t make my hips any happier.

Sigh.

Finally, on the 5^th of April, 2022, I discovered Aqua Fit.

I have a new fitness love. Seriously. Nothing hurts!

But you have to know that, although it looks like we members of the Grannie’s Fannies (my eldest son’s label for our class) are merely thrashing around. To music. We are actually putting in a lot of effort.

A lot.

Well, according to my watch. (I purchased said watch—an underwater beauty—precisely so I could track my calories.)

So, long story…erm…long, I’ve found my new fitness regimen and I couldn’t be happier.

Of course, I have a few points for discussion…

One of our torturers instructors keeps telling us to engage our core.

And, just between us, my core and I have been more-than-engaged for a number of years. It probably won’t come as a surprise to hear that—about 20 minutes into the workout—me and my core are considering a trial separation. Possibly even divorce. For irreconcilable differences.

Also, the masochist on the deck guide keeps shouting at us to breathe.

Seriously? There are people in the pool who are not gasping loudly and desperately for breath?

Sometimes she instructs us to do a certain move—without actually…you know…moving.

Now I’ve noticed something. When she tells us not to move, that’s precisely when I’m going to.

Oh, I don’t mean to.

It just happens.

Then when we are supposed to move, I don’t. Or even worse, perversely hit reverse.

Call me a contrary.

And sometimes, I just have too many parts.

I’m sorry, but keeping track of all of them? And making them all do something different?

It’s not happening.

And, let’s just say it now: if you’re going to put a floatie device in each of my hands, they’d better be working together. Cause if I have to try and wave just one of them around, there’s going to be serious up-ended-ness.

End of rant…

But I flail with purpose.

That uber-fantastic watch I told you about earlier?

According to it, I average between 300 and 500 calories per workout.

So I’m happy.