Image by mermaid99 via Flickr
If you’ve been following my blog, you know about my love affair with the Y (formerly named the YMCA). Well, there recently has appeared a chink in my admiration, and it has to do with the Y’s insistence on multi-generational classes. Yesterday, during yoga, I had to constantly avert my eyes from R.’s yoga performance because she was undermining my ability to stay focused on my own. R. always places her mat directly in front of mine. Yes, I know I could find another spot, but it’s like church; once you’ve claimed your pew, sitting anywhere else just doesn’t feel right.
Anyway, R. comes to class with jewelry and make-up on and dressed in a cute little outfit that accentuates her petite waist and delicate frame. Her hair looks as if it had been styled at the salon that morning. I show up in my standard black Target stretch pants with my Dad’s violet NYU tee shirt on, which is several sizes too large, but I need it to cover my butt when it is pointed at the ceiling in Downward Facing Dog position. I sometimes slap on a smudge of pink lipstick, but it’s too little, too late.
As if R.’s appearance isn’t insult enough, she has no trouble keeping up with our yoga teacher and holding the positions as long as instructed. While she’s gracefully sustaining a balance pose, I have sunk, gasping for breath, into a Child’s Pose, which is one which allows you to rest. Her Cobra is ready to strike while my Cobra has obviously been killed by a mongoose and lies limp on the mat.
So you see, I am not happy that the Y allows people of vastly different ages to attend the same class. It is discouraging to those of us who are struggling with the basics. Yes, R. needs to attend a class specifically for other people in their eighties like she is.
Coming East 
To grow old disgracefully that’s my aim. thanks for sharing your stories.
Amen to that, Judith! And Ruth is my model.
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I truly identified with you. I go to Yoga every Monday night and I am not wearing yoga clothes like everyone else. I am wearing a large t shirt to cover my booty. I groan when we do abs, no one else seems to mind. I have even yelled out “we are holding a pose here, did you forget?” Glad to know I am not alone!
I feel your pain!
I hope I am just like her when I’m in my eighties! Great post, had me laughing.
I would like to look like her right now! Thanks for visiting.
That cracked me up! I feel that way too about a beautiful woman in my Zumba class. She is so graceful, and elegant while I just look like a flapping goose with a hangover. And she too is s couple of generations passed me. Sigh. At least we show up, right?
Maybe someday someone will look at me and wish she could do as well…nah!
Nice twist. Don’t you just hate octogenarians?
R. is my idol!
Hi Susan
Just read your blog about Yoga – how cute! R is my inspiration! I pray I don’t act my age when I’m 84 and do it as well as she does. But come on, you do an awesome job yourself! Are you still hoola-hooping? I read several of your blogs – you are an excellent writer – I enjoyed reading! Nameste, Sandy
We’re having a sun Salutaion workshop at the Y on Sunday 1/23 11 – 1 pm. It is not full if you’re interested, come join us. I’m co-teaching with Jackie Whately. She is my daughter’s age in her 20’s and I’m almost 60 so should be very interesting. Of course I will be demostrating the modifications since I also really need many of them.
Thanks for visiting my site! Don’t think I’ll be able to get to the Y Sunday; we’re still painting, and painting, and painting…