Don't mind my cape

You know I'm 40.

I didn't anticipate the great sense of resistance I felt as I was pushed towards 40. 38 and 39 both meant nothing because they were mostly steps towards 40. The only reason I can think of that it was difficult was because in my mind everything was supposed to go downhill after that. Call me a victim of Hallmark.

So, as a 40 year old, I'm considering that 40 doesn't have to be the best I ever was. Hell, forget considering, I'm committed that 40 won't be the best I ever was. Specifically, I'm not willing physically to go downhill now.

I've told you before that I view exercise as a necessary tool for mental health. As a young person, I viewed it as a weight loss tool, but that's about it really. I wasn't a member of a sports team as a student and had about zero physical confidence. It turns out a lot of people don't have much physical confidence. If that's your experience, you can feel like everyone in the gym is in on something you missed. There's just as much nonsense going on in the gym as anywhere else, however, and the trick is to just act like you know what you're doing. Here's an example:



Love that. Gain confidence from it. Anyway, last week Shelley (my friend the trainer with whom I have a love/ hate relationship) decided it was 100's day. That means we're gonna do different simple things like squats or push-ups 100 times. I was thinking, "Bring it" until she brought it. So when I reported to my family that the high of my day was doing 100 push-ups, they were astonished. Someone asked, "The girly kind?" and I responded with, "Nope," because I wouldn't do that.

Now one and a half years ago I could do exactly 3 push-ups before falling on my face in a sad little heap, and I do not like to feel weak so 10 seemed a reasonable goal. I went out of town for the summer, but you can do a push-up anywhere and I was determined not to come home and start over with them so I did them on the fireplace, then did them inverted on the fireplace, did them in the tiny little gym, did them, did them, did them.

I think what got me was that several people happened to ask in the same week what kind of workouts Shelley and Candy and I were doing lately and I swear to you this is the the exact transcript I had with every single person:

Me: Oh we just do normal stuff. You know a little jumping around, things like push ups, lunges, doable stuff.

EVERYONE: I couldn't do a push-up.

Me: Sure you can. Start small.

EVERYONE: How many can you do?

Me: Well, I started with 3, but we did 100 this week.

EVERY SINGLE PERSON: The girly kind?

By the 3rd conversation, I gritted my teeth with, "Not the damn girly kind."

But Friday, the best thing ever happened. I overheard Olivia tell her friend in the backseat that her mom could do 100 push-ups - and not the girly kind - and her friend responded with, "Wow. You're mom's a superhero." Now that's more like it.

I am not an athlete. I am not the thinnest or most muscular female or one of those ropey looking women who counts calories and insists on perfection. I am an average, normal 40 year old woman. I am also a super hero who can do 100 push-ups.

Not the girly kind.