About a month or so ago I began working out with a personal trainer at a nearby CrossFit gym three times a week. Since then my body aches all the time and I can barely make it up the stairs to bed each night, but at least I can say it's because I pushed myself and am getting stronger every day, instead of it being because I'm almost seventy and thus getting weaker every day. Trust me, it's a lot better, at least psychologically.
I blame, oops, I mean attribute, this turn of events on my husband, who has been, since the day we met, and still insists on being to this day, eleven years younger than I. Mitch is a founding member of CrossFit, and while I often have scoffed at his blind obedience to the cult, he does seem to be in damn good shape, I'll give him that. He too is in constant pain, so now we complain together and soak in the hot tub more often. In that sense, CrossFit is helping our marriage.
The old saw, "Use it or lose it," certainly rings true for me. I have discovered muscles I never knew I had, and surely they were on their last legs before I disturbed them, if muscles can be said to have legs. Now my entire body is engaged in the aging process, and I'm guessing that can only be a good thing. I only wish I had started sooner, but at least I'll be stronger in my next life when I'm up against all those Transhumans.