Oh, sure, I’d heard it
all – ‘You need to lose weight and get fit; join the gym and work out,
watch your food choices and portions.’ As alluring as all that sounded, it did
nothing to get me off the couch to restore my slimmer, fitter self, and the
pounds kept adding up along with the rolls around my middle.
I didn’t notice it so much until I saw photos of family
gatherings, in which I was the only tub of lard. At least, that’s how I saw
myself. I rationalized, ‘Who cares, anyway?’
Then, on a breezy overcast day last Fall, a boat ride on North
Georgia’s Lake Lanier
changed everything for me. Bumping across the wavelets at 50 mph or so with my
brother and his wife, their cabin cruiser sped me back in time.
With the wind and spray in my face, hair whipping back, my
body remembered a time decades in my past when I promoted and photographed
world champion water skiers. Along with my nearly daily photo sessions, the
skiers’ coach had given me lessons which I found challenging, partly because of
my slight excess weight, and eventually satisfying.
Under the late legendary pioneer water ski coach, Chuck
Dees, I undertook a daily stretching and exercise program because, for skiing,
the person must be in top condition. My lessons became a significant part of my
life.
Gradually, my clothing size decreased as my stamina,
strength and skill increased. First, I learned to ski reliably on two skis;
then, after numerous attempts and falls I was able to drop off one ski and skim
along on one. Later, I was able to just pop up from the deep water every time,
and control my movements sufficiently to begin crossing wakes back and forth. That was exhilarating!
I cannot express the joy and power
over myself I felt at that time of my life!! And, years later, I had actually
forgotten that. How sad! I had become a lump, just kind of waiting for my clock
to run out.
Then, in October 2010, five months
before my 70th birthday, my brother Chris and his wife Ceci invited
me to go out on their boat, and that’s when it all began again. As we flew
across the water of Lake Lanier,
I suddenly found myself on my feet balancing against the ever-changing boat’s movements.
Next, almost without realizing it, I put my right foot behind my left in the
slalom position, and held on as we turned and bobbed. Bending my knees slightly
I swayed back and forth with the boat, still in ski position. My legs were
tired, but I just couldn’t let myself sit down. It felt great!!
This lasted for 15 or 20 minutes, as my mind raced along
with the boat. ‘Could I…? Dare I even think about…? Well, maybe… Heck, why
not?’ I had decided that I wanted to go through my seventh decade much
differently from the way I had spent my 60s. I began to believe I could really
recapture the vigor and discipline of my earlier years.
Finally, as the boat came to a stop Chris and Ceci
grinned at me, their eyes shining. I proposed to them that if I could get
myself in shape by the following summer, they would take me out for a ski run.
Immediately, we all high-fived, and the challenge was on!
Well, it went fine for a month or so. I had joined Bally Gym
and begun working out regularly, when I learned that I needed surgery on my
right foot. ‘OK,’ I thought; ‘I’ll get it over with, and get back on the
program’. But it wasn’t so simple.
After the six-week recovery period during which my doctor
informed me I was to stay off my foot and keep it elevated, my right leg began
hurting. I had no idea what caused that or what to do about it, but it got
worse so I consulted Dr. Samuel Milton at Emory Orthopaedics and Spine Center,
who, after a month of physical therapy to assess my strengths and weaknesses,
diagnosed my condition as patellar-femoris syndrome caused by walking with flat
feet turned inward (pronated).
Dr. Milton said this was muscular and did not warrant
surgery; he taught me to control it through exercise. When I told him of my
then-secret goal of waterskiing by the summertime, his face lit up and he said
he loves to waterski, and that’s how I knew this extremely fit man was
heaven-sent to help me get up on the water.
He put me on a detailed program of weight, resistance and
aerobics training, and recommended a healthful eating program – all geared to
my particular needs and goal. I could not have been more blessed and I vowed to myself, I would do the work required.
Initially I would hobble into Bally in great pain,
fortified with a leg brace and extra-strength analgesic. Gritting my teeth, I
worked through the routine regularly. No, I didn’t feel like it, but I told
myself that was my job at that time, and I’d soldier on.
I continued working out and gradually improving, and then
came another roadblock – more accurately, a ‘fork in the road’. My husband Stan
was diagnosed with Stage 2 prostate cancer. He would require radiation therapy
for 25 business days, and I’d be driving him.
We discussed the cancer, and the role it would play in our
lives, and decided that we wouldn’t let it define us. Personally, I decided
that, while I would care for Stan and help him to recover, I would not let his
illness swallow me up. I would maintain my individuality and my goal, with his
strong support.
We told only our families and close friends about his
diagnosis, carried on with life, and completed
his treatments; fortunately, he had no discomfort from the therapy nor any
symptoms and, as far as we know, he’s well now. During the days of his therapy,
I would go to Bally in
the morning, and we would go to Winship
Cancer Center
in the late afternoons.
Finally, for me and my program the waters ahead were smooth,
and the summer began; Chris and I set a date for the great adventure and I
drove to their home, full of hope and joy. But it didn’t happen for me. After
approximately 90 minutes of attempting to position myself behind the shifting
boat and to find the sinking rope handle, my energy had melted away, and we had to give up. To
say we were dejected was an understatement.
For a couple of weeks, I contemplated the whole goal, my
approach to working out and all the rest, eventually deciding that I would
continue to work out because I liked the strength and stamina I had achieved
but that, maybe the zing and pizzazz I was seeking had passed me by.
Then, my close friend Tayyibah Taylor, publisher of Azizah
Magazine began goading me to complete the task. She was unrelenting (as I
sometimes am with her) because, as I am managing editor of the magazine, she
believed I could be seen as a role model – an example of ‘the Azizah woman’.
She hounded me to provide her with a photo of me skiing,
which she could include in an article titled Fit and Fabulous at each decade, beginning at 30. So, because of
Tayyibah’s persistence, it finally occurred to me that I could look for a water
ski coach with all the equipment to which I was accustomed, and I could
actually achieve my goal.
After contacting Barron Barnes of Lake
Lanier Water Ski
Center, who agreed to schedule me,
I contacted local photographer Michael Pugh who agreed to photograph me,
and the rest is history. On a lovely August day we all met and, not only did I
get up on one ski, I took my first barefoot skiing lesson!
Tayyibah has her photo and I have my old self back. Through
discipline, persistence, a fantastic support team and the grace of Almighty God,
I walk tall now with strength, stamina and – most importantly – the
exhilaration of knowing that I can still joyously face life head on, whether
the wind blows before me or behind me.
And I love being able to tell people what I’m doing now,
instead of what I used to do. Slimmer, stronger and fitter, it’s much more fun
to move in the stream rather than sit on the sideline!
I’m certainly no different from anyone else who’s retired or
semi-retired – no different at all -- except that I did find the invisible
bridge I could cross over to find myself again. I wanted to FEEL the way I used
to in my prime and, if you can think back to remember when you felt that way
and what made you feel that way, you will also find your invisible bridge.
Of course, it may sway a bit and you may step on a few
splinters as you cross over it but, remembering back when you were powerful,
you can recapture the strength to continue on to the other side. I wish you a
steadily unwavering eye on your goal as you begin your journey!
