United States Olympic Training Center this ain’t.
Dear H2Oldsters,*
Now that I’ve lost the equivalent of nine five-pound bags of sugar (!), it’s time to firm up what remains. Taking on those wobbly bits means I take on water — aerobics in the YMCA pool.
Why that and not some other group exercise class?
- I don’t like to sweat.
- It’s easier on the joints.
- I feel like a badass when I can do all the exercises you can’t.
Sorry. (Not sorry.)
Yes, I’m about 30-40 years younger than you. Wet behind the ears, even. (Yuk, yuk. Sorry. I am sorry.)
But it isn’t that.
Here’s the thing:
I bet you COULD do all the exercises if you would SHUT YOUR BIG YAPPERS and try.
Elderly avengers assemble!
From the moment you get in the pool, you do not stop talking. The class begins, you keep at it. People like me who are there to GET STUFF DONE have to swim around you.
Why you gotta be like that?
For real: Why are you there? Why bother putting on a bathing suit? Just meet the other crones at Starbucks or whatever. Or hang out in the Y lobby and chat. There are comfy couches there. Easy on the bones.
At the very least, go to the other end of the pool.
If you do, all this will be water under the bridge. (Sorry. I can’t help it. It’s too easy.)
Yours through hell and high water,
Beth
* Come on! That’s a little funny, no?
Observe and report 
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