Getting in Shape

I hate to exercise. I always have, and maybe I always will. But for the last month, my husband and I have been walking at night. We figure it's good for the two dogs, and it's good for us. The dogs love it; we tolerate it.

But I have to admit it's getting easier. We certainly go faster now. As my husband says, I need to get my heart pumping. We've been thinking about setting a goal of taking a three-day backpacking trip about this time next year.

So why is exercise so difficult? We know for a fact we're healthier because of it. Yet, I look for every excuse to avoid it. But at halftime of my life, I've realized I won't live forever. It's time to get with the program, and get in shape!

Second Acts

I'm reading a great book! It's called "Second Acts," and it's written by Stephen Pollan. Mr. Pollan is an attorney, a financial expert and a life coach, who created a second act for himself after he was diagnosed with lung cancer -- then was told that diagnosis was wrong and he actually had tuberculosis.

The author takes you through a series of exercises, which I'm doing. One of them really puts you out there, because you have to get in touch with family and friends and ask them to honestly tell you what they see as your strengths and weaknesses. The answers are starting to trickle back in, and I must say, people are giving this a lot of thought. I appreciate that!

Get this book if you wanted to get started on a second act. As a footnote, Mr. Pollan is the father-in-law of actor Michael J. Fox, who also started a second act after he learned he had Parkinson's Disease.

Office Clothes

Since I'm planning to go back to work full time, I've been assembling some interview outfits. It's been a long time since I wore suits and heels. I've also been putting together some outfits that are a little more professional and trendy than my everyday look at home. As I'm getting out more, I'm running into people who could be a big help professionally. So I think I need to dress a little better!

So, I bought two pairs of black pumps, one of them very conservative with a fairly high heel. The other pair is a little more trendy, at least for me, but has a lower heel. I've bought a couple of nice jackets, and I'm having several pieces altered, which I think will make a huge difference.

I'm kinda getting excited about the new me!

Friends

The "halftime" class at my church didn't turn out to be what I was hoping, so I think I may give it a miss. But I did have the opportunity to catch up with an old friend, and that was great! I've been so involved in my family the last several years, I've let some friendships go. Now, I'm trying to get back in the swing of things with my friends.

As wives and mothers, we often put our other relationships on the back burner for too long. Somehow we equate looking after our self with with being greedy. There's nothing wrong with taking care of yourself. After all, when Mama ain't happy, ain't nobody happy.

Halftime

Tonight I 'm going to the fall preview of the women's ministries programs at my church. This fall, there's a class for women who are in the "halftime" of their lives. Well, that's me for sure. I'm hoping this class will address all the issues I'm struggling with as I try to reinvent myself.

Plus, I just need to get out more! I've spent all my time mothering during the last several years, and while I don't regret it, I do see how I've let some other priorities go. Priorities such as looking after me.

Trendy Nails

Bright fingernail polish seems to be out. I guess it’s been out for a while now, but I missed that memo. (It’s still okay for toenails.) Acrylic nails seem to be going out of style, too. They were never in style for me. I just couldn’t justify all that time or money.

But I’ve found a way to keep my fingernails looking pretty good. And since looking stylish is part of my reinvention plan, I’m proud to say my nails have never looked better. Here’s what I do.

First, my nails had started to yellow. Soaking them in denture tablets dissolved in warm water makes a big difference. I leave them in the soak for about five minutes. Then I dig my nails into a bar of ivory soap. Rinse, and they’re whiter than ever. I buff, shape and then grab the nail polish.

I apply a clear coat, let dry, and then apply a pink coat that’s almost a nude. Then, a second pink coat and finally another coat of clear. The four coats harden them, and so I’m not as likely to break one. If I do, I just file it down and start over.

The pale pink polish doesn’t show chips like a dark one does. Most of all, I feel beautifully trendy!

Gators and Water and a Jet Ski, Oh My!

Michael Phelps is an athlete. So is Shawn Johnson. The Manning brothers are athletes. Kobe and Shaq are athletes. Andy Roddick is one, too.

I, on the other hand, am not an athlete.

Before we got engaged, my husband-to-be announced he had always wanted to marry an athletic girl. I carefully explained that in school I was always the one chosen last for the team. I couldn’t hit a softball if somebody gave me a bat six feet wide. I wasn’t particularly gifted at badminton, and somehow I had managed to reach adulthood without learning to swim. And, I swiftly told him before he could offer to teach me, I didn’t want to learn to swim. I was and still am terrified of the water.

So naturally, the guy who wanted an athletic girl fell in love with and married the most un-athletic woman possible. Before the flowers from my bouquet turned brown, he convinced me to go wilderness canoeing in the Okefenokee Swamp. Wilderness canoeing means just what it sounds like. You are in the wilderness; you are the only canoe on your extremely narrow and very poorly marked trail. The Army drops rangers-in-training into this swamp as part of their survival skills course.

I was somewhat concerned about snakes hanging off the branches. The park ranger assured me I wouldn’t run into snakes.

“The gators eat them all,” he explained.

Oh, good.

It took us eight hours to row to our camp spot. Branches scratched our faces, and alligators bumped their heads on the bottom of the canoe. Alligators will eat you. Once, we got stuck in lily pads. My husband had to get out and push the canoe through the lily pads. I was certainly expecting a gator to bite off at least one of his legs.

By the time we got to the camp spot, my right arm was about to fall off after all that rowing. I had packed a tube of Ben-Gay at the last minute, and it saved my marriage. The next day, guess what! We had to row eight more hours to get out of that God-forsaken place. I never want to see another alligator.

And, just as naturally as canoeing through the swamp, when our twins were in middle school, we bought a houseboat, a ski boat and two jet skis. Suddenly we were spending every weekend on the water. My husband has made a six-year effort of getting me to like riding on a jet ski. No matter what I’ve said, he remained convinced I would find it “exhilarating.” At least, he promised he would go slowly with me on the thing. Our twins have two speeds: off and as fast as it will go.

Well, we just sold the houseboat. No more jet ski. Labor Day was our last weekend there, and I thought I had successfully dodged the jet ski bullet. But he’s not a man to give up.
Somehow he convinced me to mount the damn thing. He would drive, he said, and he would definitely do slow.

He didn’t go slow. And then, in an effort to placate me, he said we would get closer to the shore so we could admire all the vacation homes. But before we got there, the jet ski died. My husband said it was clogged with grass. He jumped in the water to pull the stuff out, causing the craft to sway dangerously from side to side.

“If you turn this thing over with me on it, I will never forgive you.” I enunciated each word slowly between clenched teeth.

“You can’t drown; you have on a life jacket.”

I didn’t bother to reply. The athletic chasm between us was so great I realized it would take three lifetimes to get it filled.

He finally got it going, and then got back on it – but behind me this time. I needed to drive, he said. It would be a confidence builder. I first refused, but since it appeared we might sit out there in the middle of the lake all day, I started it up, slowly.

And I drove us back to the houseboat. I didn’t go super fast, but I didn’t drive super slow, either. I was terrified, but I did it.

So what’s the point of all this revelation into my cowardly character? Well, I know I need to increase my confidence level. I have a lot of fears, and it’s about time I let go of some of them. After captaining that jet ski for a few minutes, I realized I was doing something that scared me, and I was winning. It was a tiny victory, but my victory all the same. If I could do that, then perhaps I can do other things that frighten me.

Just one little step on my reinvention campaign!

Going Back to the Office

So here I am, at this mid-stage of my life, planning to resume a career. I haven't worked full-time in an office since my twins were born, and now they're freshmen in college. I loved being a stay-at-home Mom. I loved every single minute of it! But now, with two out-0f-state tuition bills and retirement looming (hopefully) sometime in the next decade for my husband, it's time for me to go back to work.

I've certainly not been completely out of my field during all this time. I've done free-lance writing, worked part-time for a PR agency and part-time for my husband. And I've done tons' of volunteer work. But somehow, I'm afraid I'm going to look like a relic from the dark ages to a prospective employer.

I've checked out books at the library on writing resumes and cover letters. I'm trying to assemble an interview wardrobe. Heels, oh no! It's all part of my reinvention plan. Sometimes I feel confident, but most days I just feel shaky.

What Not To Wear

The Today Show has a series going about living a great life when you’re 50 plus. Yesterday, Clinton, from “What Not To Wear” appeared to give his take on what we should all be wearing. Avoid the dreaded word “matronly,” he said, and be careful with trends. While it’s okay to be fashionable, don’t try to be trendy from head to toe.

I agreed with much of what he said – be careful about showing too much cleavage, watch the skirt length and please stay away from Christmas sweaters. (Mama, are you listening?) But I’ll have to say I wasn’t crazy about the outfits he put the over 50 models in. They just weren’t that great. Actually, they were kind of fade into the wall dull. However, I did like what one of the models said. Clinton chastised her for being too “matchy-matchy.” She agreed, and said with her new look, she was instead “coordinated.”

National Makeover Month

Wow! The popular website, iVillage, has declared September to be National Makeover Month. I wonder if they did this for me. Ha!

Probably not. But it looks like they have some great information on makeup, exercise and wardrobe. You can get information on hair styles and color, what’s trendy this fall in fashion and the makeup items that are must haves for your beauty bag.

Of course, I’m wanting my makeover – my reinvention – to go a lot further than what’s on the outside, but this is certainly a great start. There’s nothing to ramp up your confidence level like knowing you look absolutely great, whether you’re 15 or 50.

Is Fifty Nifty?

I’m trying not to be old. But I’m here on the other side of 50, and I can feel myself sliding down a gray hair path. I keep hearing how 50 is the new 30. Well, that’s fine and dandy to say, but how many 30-year-olds have hot flashes, flabby stomachs and need reading glasses (on top of contacts) to read those out-of-state tuition bills that appear in my email?

The girls in their 30s that I know don’t get at least one letter per week from AARP. My daily vitamin is a “senior” vitamin, for God’s sake. The rock and roll music I grew up to, the music that lived and breathed rebellion, is now a golden oldie. My husband is more interested in getting a good night’s sleep than wild sex sessions. Last year I had an anal fissure! So far, the second half of life is not super.

It’s not that I want to look like Christie Brinkley. Well, actually I do, but I’ve sort of given up on that one. She looked just like Barbie 30 years ago, and she still does today. She’s probably had a little work done. But it’s not just trying to look younger. I know it’s impossible for me to look 30. But I don’t want to feel my life is pretty much over. Oh sure, everyone will tell me stories about how Grandma Moses didn’t start painting until after 80. Let’s face it, girls. We live in a crazy, youth-obsessed culture.

So, I’ve started a journey to reinvent myself. Is it possible? Can you really start over at this stage of life? Can fifty really be nifty? Guess I’m going to at least explore that possibility. Care to join me?