I’m not sporty. Never have been. Can’t be bothered with competing with other people, not in any walks of my life. But I am interested in being healthy & have always enjoyed aerobics, yoga, hiking & walking. It’s never been an obsession (not like writing & love) though.
I’ve joined a couple of gyms in my time, enjoyed a few classes, felt the burns every now and then, but it’s never been consistent. Always had too much to do I suppose, never was one for routine. But events over the past year have really made me look at myself in a very different way.
I know I talk about the menopause a lot, but it really does have a massive impact on your mind & body. As your hormones drain away slowly it can really affect your joints and your capacity to retain muscle mass. And I’ve talked frankly about what it can do to your head. So one year in taking HRT, and now supplemented with a dash of testosterone every day, I suddenly feel full of energy again. And as certain things have fallen away from my life, certain things that have drained me and shattered me, I’ve felt a splurge of life like renewed blood coursing through my bones.
So I joined a gym. It’s a posh gym with an outdoor pool and sauna and steam facilities so more of a relaxed holiday vibe than a sweat your arse off vibe. I enjoyed swimming so much last year when I was on holiday in Greece (I was raising money for Alzheimer’s by swimming every day) I actually began to yearn for a daily swim or, at least, a daily something to move me on. At that time I was dreaming silently about moving on – both personally and physically.
It’s funny how things like that start in your head, how it can act as a catalyst for change. Sometimes it can take a while before the action follows (that’s often the hard part) but I can’t quite believe how fulfilling it has turned out to be.
Don’t get me wrong, it’s nothing like I thought it would be. I thought gyms would be full of beautiful bunnies (I have seen people wearing false eyelashes though) and big blokes with biceps. It’s nothing like that. It’s full of older people, all body shapes, children (this isn’t a bonus) and people who … well, let’s face it … are there for anything but fitness I’ve observed. It’s actually a place to go to where you can talk a lot.
This wasn’t what I really wanted. Some people remarked, when finding out I’d joined a gym, that I might make friends. Noooooo! I’ve got enough friends. I don’t want to make any more friends, I can’t keep up with the ones I’ve got. I actually envisioned just enjoying the peace, sitting in the steam room with just my hot, sweaty thoughts. Sweating it out in the sauna. Paddling up and down the outdoor pool trying not to get my chin wet.
But no. I’ve done all of these things but with a non-stop Black Country Yam Yam soundtrack going on in the background. Like a constant noise. I was in the pool one early Saturday morning enjoying some calm & light rain when suddenly my ears were assaulted on my left by three women in their early 60s doggy paddling up and down talking about their unfaithful husbands and to my right a younger model talking about her partner who locked her in a room and ended up in prison for domestic abuse and violence.
I kind of wanted to nudge them all and tell them to focus on their own well-being and enjoyment by forgetting about men for a minute, then I realised. This gym is a meeting place, it’s like therapy, it’s like the place to go to get it all off your chest. I can see how that might work for some people.
I want it to be the opposite. I’m at a time in my life where I just want all the drama to be played out at a theatre of my choice. I’m not interested in wringing the neck and the last of the water out of problems and difficulties. I just want to practise being mindful, live in the moment, forget the past, not worry about the future and focus on my core being.
Yes I know I sound like an ageing hippy. But I find that the gym is actually a path to enlightenment (if you wear ear plugs). I’m being stretched to the limit both physically and spiritually by yoga, Pilates and Tai Chi, I’m not pushing my limbs to stupid levels to show how fast I can be, I’m going slowly and surely to take care of my mind and my body. And it’s amazing how people think yoga is easy if you’re not hurtling to a finish line or lifting something heavy. A grown man nearly cried in the class I was in the other day. And I floated into Warrior 3 as he collapsed in a heap on the floor.
When you reach menopause you really do have to push gently uphill to transcend the physical changes and the mental effects this has on bodies that you’ve always been able to rely on up until now. You’ve got to adapt to the changes & help your bones, don’t punish them. And the same goes for what’s going on in your head. It really is up to us to leave the bullshit of life at the door once in a while, let the mind switch off and focus on recharging our batteries.
Exercise – and life, when it comes to that – doesn’t have to mean pain (although there’s a certain sadomasochistic appeal to some of the wilder cardio classes!), it doesn’t have to be about pull and push. And absolutely, if you need company and chat, I’m sure that helps enormously, too. But I see it as my new Buddhist temple. The place to go where I can go on a quiet journey there and back, a safe haven to stretch my boundaries, and somewhere that takes my breath away without breaking my heart.
The healing and holistic benefits are immense. Also £60 a month … you wouldn’t want to waste that, it’s at least 5 or 6 cocktails with friends where you absolutely should be talking about how unfaithful men can be. It’s a no-brainer.
Mags Winthrop Blog 