There’s nothing like moving back to the college town of your youth to make you feel old.
Last week my fitness teacher put me through so many jumps that my legs literally buckled. I kind of keeled over on my knees as I reached for my non-existent life alert necklace. She’s probably too young to even remember, “I’ve fallen and I can’t get up”…
All this talk of aging reminds me that this past autumn, I was happily carded at Target while buying several boxes of White Claw for our Halloween party. Then over Christmas, I arrived early and solo to a mat pilates class in Ojai. A man and his wife asked me if I was the teacher. I accepted his assessment of my fitness level with a flattered laugh and beamed my way through the Pilates 100. Then I was carded again while buying alcohol and doughnut holes in Santa Ynez during the All Stars Winter Classic.
Today I was carded while picking-up a four pack of the cutest pink cans of sparkling rosé and a week’s worth of lunchtime salads.
The secret to my youthful glow?— leaving the boys in the car.