A Senior Citizen Workout

I am currently out in California visiting my parents. Wednesday, when I arrived, my mother told me that Thursday was the day for her exercise class and wondered if I’d like to join her? One of her friends, whom I love, was planning to meet us, and after the class we’d all go out for breakfast. What could be better?

I never thought to ask where this exercise class took place. I just figured it would be at a local country club where my parents are members. There is equipment there; it was a logical conclusion. It was several hours later when I found out that said exercise class was being held at the senior citizens center. “You mean,” I asked in a rather shocked tone, “that I’m going to be working out with a bunch of seniors?” My mom’s response just about sent me in search of some serious chocolate. “What’s the problem? You qualify as a senior.” Well, now I’m just depressed! Besides, until they start giving me the senior citizen discount at the grocery store, nobody better call me a senior citizen! My mother tried to cheer me up by telling me I’d be the youngest one there. I figured, at the very least, I’d get some fodder for my blog.

So, my first task was to figure out what to wear. I know some people won’t leave home without their workout clothes but I’m not one of those people. I’m just not that dedicated. I chose my most casual pair of pants despite the fact that another pair, while dressier, has more give. Seriously, how much give would I need at the senior center?

At 8:45 Thursday morning we headed out the door ready to work up our appetite for breakfast. We get to the senior center only to find out that the class has been cancelled. It seems the instructor has a dental appointment. I was bummed. Now, what would I have to blog about?

All was not lost, however. Breakfast wasn’t cancelled, just the exercise. Funny, not one of us suggested we go to the club and use the equipment previously mentioned. I guess I’m not the only one who lacks dedication.

After breakfast we did some shopping. If making decisions, handing over your credit card, and carrying packages qualify as exercise, we’re in fine shape.