Age and Exercise
A "getting all existential at The Y" Jam
I try to go to the YMCA (aka “Young Men’s Christian Assocation”, or “The Y” to anyone under 150 years old) on a regular basis. I'd like to say that this near-habit hints at a healthy lifestyle, signals a certain maturity, since fitness should become more important as we age. But it's probably just a small attempt to ward off the dire effects of all the bad food I seem to consume these days.
Reflecting on health and age, I can’t help but note that The Y is like a museum of the aging process. A simple stroll through the facility, at least the one near my house, gives one a rough view of the human lifecycle:
Near the front, you observe the babies and toddlers in their own little, brightly lit nursery area, nestled behind a Dutch door. They have ZERO idea where they are, but simply know that they're hungry or are in need of a diaper change and are keenly aware that this nice lady in the Lululemons and blue t-shirt is NOT their mom. Familiar routine, different location for these precious souls.
Life rolls on in blissful confusion for the babies.
Down the hall, the youth frolic with abandon in the kids’ wing. They're running, they're laughing, they’re climbing, they are largely ignoring commands to slow down and stop throwing things at each other. They are wide-eyed with optimism and energy that won't wane until their early teens. One glance into the jubilant madness confirms the wisdom of the decree The Y has made that forbids them from using heavy equipment.
Observe with nostalgia that life is fast and full of possibility for these budding humans.
In the main weight/cardio rooms, you find the late teens and twenty-somethings. Extremely fit, running and lifting weights (sometimes simultaneously), all while posting on Instagram and TikTok, sending each other Venmo and Apple payments for shared Uber fares, and keeping 75 text streams going in between sets. Their bright, glistening faces are JUST starting to show signs of worry and stress, for they are building busy lives, lives made up of the pursuit of advanced degrees, burgeoning careers, relationships, weekend wine bar outings, and rustic music festivals. Regardless, the world is their oyster (although they prefer baked fish tacos and boutique low-cal beer from a food truck in a neighborhood so trendy there is literally no parking).
Long live the young and free.
Take a right and head a bit down the hall to see the middle-aged men playing basketball. The combined money spent on the various knee, ankle, and elbow braces in this room could fund an inner-city charter school. Somehow, they have been allowed out of the house, and they're going to make the most of it, are going to show the world that they were once "great" at something! More to the point, in a nebulous, mid-life delusion daydream, they truly believe that today may be the day when they and their sometimes-deadly hook-shot will be scouted for some kind of near-geriatric NBA team.
Appreciate knowingly the men trying to make the most of the last days with their original knees.
As you prepare to leave, completing the full arc of the facility/life, observe with a kind of profound reverence the seniors, those sweet, time-mellowed folks living their golden years to the fullest, relishing chair aerobics and non-rushed stationary bike riding in their own sacred space filled with their own nondescript jazz pop. With nothing to prove, they smile and chat up the staff and each other, surely reflecting on lives representing a thousand different stories.
God bless the seniors.
As you head toward the exit, you'll note a few stray, free-range seniors loitering near the nursery. You can’t help but reflect just briefly that it’s POSSIBLE that a few of these pleasantly-wizened brothers and sisters share a kindred spirit with the babes behind the half-door, in that they also have little idea where they are. But so shall we all, if fortunate enough, and they've earned the right to mill around.
Besides, you think, as you dig into your bag for your car keys so you can rush to the next thing, it's The Y, and the staff is always glad to help.
Thanks for reading! May your day be filled with reflections on life stirred by unexpected places.
Really good & always entertaining
To read your stories.
That was a laugh out loud.