In thirty days I will be forty years old. According to our culture’s latest push, that means I am supposed to DO something and do it big. Travel, party, big night(s) out or perhaps invest in some expensive jewelry to mark the fact that I am about half-way dead. I understand why these are seen as important markings for a fortieth birthday. They help a person show the world that she is still young, vibrant, capable, accomplished and ALIVE. Such events can also allow a woman to gather with her closest friends to cherish and celebrate a life through laughter and most likely, some wine and cake. (Cake for cherishing the first half of life and wine for pondering the second?) While the latter reason holds some appeal to me the former does not- at least not in the way cruise ship companies and jewelers spell it out. My prior post, “Kicking the Bucket (List)” illustrates, I’m not so hot about thinking grandiose thoughts when it comes to my life.
So there are no huge parties or trips in the works for me over the next thirty days- just some relatively huge weights! For one hour, two times a week for the past six months I’ve been working on a classic weight-lifting move – the bench press. With the guidance of a champion power lifter/trainer and the moral support of the other ladies in my group I’ve increased my “one rep max” (the heaviest amount my body can successfully exert force upon for one repetition) from 50 pounds to 75 pounds. She who shies away from thinking big for herself hasn’t shied away from the goal of maxing out at 80 lbs by the time I am forty years old. Why 80 by 40? 80 lbs is 57% of my body weight. Lifting 57% of my body weight at age 40 puts me in the 70th percentile of women my age. In laywoman’s terms- I’d be stronger than 70% of women my age at the bench press. She who never passed that President’s Award Physical Fitness Exam in school, she who crumbled into a ball and was thrown on the “meat wagon” during track practice, she who never viewed her body as being physically strong will officially BE STRONG.
Talk about feeling young, vibrant, capable and ALIVE! Every grunt, groan, pain and gain reinforces the truth that as I approach 40, I am NOT half-dead. This tiny weight-lifting challenge permeates all aspects of my life in the most positive ways. I am not afraid to set other goals for myself and now can break them down into tiny “workouts” to accomplish them. I’ve passed on the weeknight glass of wine to make sure I don’t screw up my training. My children have not only become my cheerleaders but my admirers- my six year old told me she “can’t wait to be able to put muscle on my body”. Instead of trying to do things I ALWAYS wanted to do, I’ve started thinking about things I’ve NEVER thought I could do. My mind (and my deltoids and my glutes) have grown through this experience. Would this mental and physical expansion occurred if I’d had my nose planted firmly in a bucket list? Will I max out at 80 on 40? I don’t know. It’s the “I don’t know” that used to halt me in my tracks. But as I stare down 40 years of age and the assortment of “dimes”, “nickels”, and “chips”* it will bring, I am happily pressing onward.
*terms for 10, 5 and 2 ½ pound weights.
Paths to Enlightenment
Open Mind
Good trainer
Calluses
enlightenmentawaits 