What freedom looks like
In May 2026, I went for a one-session dance class organised by the senior group in church. Our sexy 68 year-old dance teacher/fitness coach moved with such elegance, energy and grace. She told us that at 50, she took up pole dancing. 😱 I wondered if I could ever attain that level of fitness (or sexiness 🤣).
Twice a week from July 2025, I went for GymTonics (the Uncle Auntie Gym for seniors). Each course lasts 24 sessions. I got booted out in April 2026 after completing two courses – 48 sessions – to make way for other seniors to join. For whatever reason, Facebook and YouTube have been bombarding me with gym and fitness coaching ads. I watched their videos: women in their 60s and 70s lifting weights and the likes.
My maternal grandma lived to a ripe old age of 90, short of a few months. While Mum went to work, Mama took care of our home and three cannot-sit-still grandchildren. She was healthy, independent and a big help to the family. Mum said that at age 50, Mama could jump across the big longkang (drain). Why she would do that, I don’t know. I hope I will stay agile till the day I switch address and walk the streets of heaven.
In early August 2026, I picked up the flu bug. Reluctantly, I went on a course of antibiotics. It’s been almost two months, and I am still coughing off and on. A change in temperature, a gust of air or the haze triggers a long spasm of coughing. On some days, I lay in bed, not feeling sick-sick, but not feeling well-well either. My mind races with so many ideas and things I want to do, but my one and only body doesn’t always want to cooperate.
My world is lived more in my head than in my physical body. I want to be fit, but my efforts do not match my desires. My commitment falls far short of my dream of being fit. The could-be-healthier body I have now is the price I pay for my lack of discipline. I wish I could find that shortcut elixir that would reset me to a healthier version of my younger self.
Then it hit me. I will cross the 66 mark very soon. I’m closer to the big SEVEN than I am to six! How did I get here? I forget my age until my stiff back, frozen shoulders or crackling knees scream at me after the wrong move. I don’t like the scorecard of my medical checks.
At age 89, Mama had a fall and broke her hip. I saw her quickly deteriorate from an independent, mobile person to one confined to her chair and bed. She passed on within two months.
Mum is 95. She had always been the boss. While she’s still mentally alert, I see her surrendering the reins as we help her with simple daily things we take for granted. She’s still the boss, telling us where to push her on her Rolls-Royce wheelchair whenever we go out.
I know a lady about my age who gets around in her PMD (personal mobility device). Remember the dance class I attended? Well, she was there dancing! Why she chooses her PMD instead of walking is a mystery to me. Indifferent to the people around her, she scoots her no-need-to-be-there PMD up the bus, delaying others, taking up three spaces when standing she would just take up one.
You don’t know what you have until you lose it. Movement is freedom.
There are a few things I am learning about looking after our bodies which I will share over a few posts. For now, let me share this video. I think this fitness coach, Vanja Moves, is on to something.
So coming back to my question: