I WAS DRIVING one early morning on Foothill Boulevard in Pasadena, California, with my sister, who was visiting from the Philippines, when she suddenly said, “Look at her, Ate.”
I looked and saw an elderly American female who was no younger than either of us. She must have been in her 70s. She was in tennis shoes, wearing a hat and a pair of sunglasses, garbed in sportswear and briskly walking alone on this busy boulevard, perhaps on an errand, or just finishing her morning jog.
I told my sister that the lady must be headed to a nearby Corner Bakery for a cup of coffee, bagel and morning papers. My sister said she had indeed observed that people like her, whether alone or in groups, have been a great part of the American scenery.
We began to talk of how independent and visible the older women and men here are. Most oldies drive, do their own errands, shop, exercise/walk, go for a doctor’s appointment, do volunteer work, or see a movie. More and more opt to continue to work.
We wished we could see more and more of the older folk, especially women, in the Philippines more active and visible. That was how I was, not too long ago in the Philippines, but quite often I felt like an oddball and was considered an oddity by some.
I began my part-time retirement in the Philippines about seven years ago. The first years were the beginning of a more care-free life and the fulfillment of some dreams and wishes. I lived nearby where I could watch the sunset, get a glimpse of Manila Bay and, in the wee hours, drive or walk to the Bayside of the Mall of Asia to see the water and hear the splash of the waves. I loved finishing brisk walking before sunrise.
I also joined a fitness program as I wanted to keep this aging body fit, healthy and arthritis-free. Do I remember my first day in the Center! I was excitedly looking forward to making new friends. When I looked around, I felt suddenly misplaced. I was surrounded by young, wrinkle-free faces in agile, fat-free bodies. No one was older than 40! Where were the 50-, 60-, 70-, 80-year-olds?
For truly, I was used to our Jazzercise classes in California that included three generations, from grannies to their daughters to their apos. They included housewives, young mothers, the unmarried, the divorced, the widowed, retirees, and a few men. In short, it was inclusive of young and old, of different shapes, forms and generations.
I didn’t expect the total absence and lack of representation of six million seniors in this particular fitness program. It was quite disappointing not to meet some of them in this setting. (I found out later that the more active seniors were into ballroom dancing.)
In my own determined way, I stayed and went through the whole routine of workouts, not minding those around me. I felt good when I found myself doing what the younger ones could do and felt okay, too, when I couldn’t do what they could. I had a good excuse: my age!
‘Nanay’
My fellow exercisers would call me ate. That was good enough, as compared to being addressed nanay by strangers who were younger, near my age, or older. Not too flattering. Quite embarrassing at times. Haven’t gotten used to that yet. For although my passport showed my true chronological age, my body would say otherwise: that I was biologically young and young at heart.
Going back to exercising: Not too long afterwards, I left the fitness program for the more invigorating, early-morning outdoor exercises. I joined the aerobics sessions at Harbor Square across the Cultural Center of the Philippines. No contract, no papers to fill out.
Rain (except during typhoons) or shine, the diehards were there. You put your “donation” of P20 in the collection bag being passed by the “collector” as you exercised. Nothing could beat that. And the instructors were good and enthusiastic. I usually positioned myself at the back so that I could do the lower-impact variations of some movements. Or make some movements more jazzy.
My usual outfit? Sportswear, like everyone else. But I like to wear a hat and a pair of dark glasses for sun protection. A Jazzercise teacher once said, the lighter the clothing you wear (that is, more skin to show), the better because heavy clothing can drag you down. And the class would add: Never mind the sagging arms and the wrinkles. (Love them, warts and all. These bodies are the only ones we’ve got.)
By the way, any good outfit, not necessarily expensive, can boost your self-confidence and make you feel better and feel light. Instead of walking you feel like skipping, instead of skipping you feel like leaping, oops!
Never mind what people will say. We seniors are entitled to being fit, beautiful, happy and sexy!
Go, have a physical checkup, get a go-signal from your doctor, then find your own group and just do it.
P.S. Once in a while, after a good workout and changing your sweaty outfit, treat yourself to a breakfast at Jollibee, Starbucks or your favorite coffee shop. While away your time by reading their morning papers which are free, compliments of the shops. Didn’t we all earn and deserve this!