Forget Pilates, Yogalates or any other kind of lattes. If you want to stay fit over 60, the trick is to acquire a small grandchild
Little G and I walk for miles and miles
Or rather I walk (active) and Little G is walked (passive). Up hills, down hills, through the park we go. Into town and back. Then into town again because I forgot to buy something You must be mad has asked me to get.
Want to get fit? Get a grandchild!
I watch the joggers pass us by with scorn. Lightweights, I think. They should try pushing a buggy full of baby, shopping, nappy bag, snacks, toys, my handbag and the kitchen sink. Then they'd know what fitness really was. Same for the group of bendy wendies who do Tai Chi in the park in their smart hooded sweats. Get a life; get a granddaughter, I snarl (silently) as we stride past.
Don't want middle age spread? Get a grandchild!
As for developing middle age spread or any age spread - I wish. You want to lose weight? Acquire a small grandchild. Meals are something I view in hindsight, as in: did I have any lunch? (The answer is usually no). Little G eats like a queen. I finish her crusts and leftovers. Unless we're saving them for the ducks. Round here, the ducks eat better than I do.
If only I could tell my fat diffident teenage self that one day I'd be rocking size 10 skinny jeans and have cheekbones you could abseil off. Sadly I'd also have to tell her that as I'm over 60 and pushing a buggy, in the misquoted words of Rhett Butler, ''nobody could give a damn.''
To be continued...