It’s official. I’m old. The MeeMaw train has left the station and I’m riding in first class. I fought the passing birthdays like a champ. I’d shave off a few years when asked my age. I’d try to keep up with ever-changing cultural things — music, hair (luckily I passed through the Flock of Seagulls phase quickly), hip words (cool became rad became sick). I stayed abreast of new technologies — all my cassettes are gone, CDs are a thing of my past, and my TV is flat. But, I’ve finally given up. And the weirdest thing made me throw in the towel: an ad for yoga clothes.
I like feeling fashionable as much as the next person, but when I saw a pair of “yoga shorts” so skimpy Daisy Duke would be embarrassed to wear them (also good for hooping and pole dancing — hand to God that’s what the ad said), I knew I was done. I sat there staring at the photo — bare midriff of an extremely fit model — two strips of black cloth covering just enough up top and down bottom to keep the police at bay. I’ve been to a few yoga classes and the thought of that going downward dog all up in front of me, a view to China no one could possibly miss, was an image I couldn’t come to terms with. I know several “fit people.” No way do I want any of them in a “happy baby” yoga pose within 100 feet of me in those shorts.
What the heck kind of message are these ads sending? Do they really sell those crazy clothes? Who’s buying them? I thought we were supposed to be staving the obesity epidemic, turning the tide on cardiovascular disease and diabetes, not encouraging free anatomy lessons in group fitness classes. What the what?
I turned a blind eye to thongs peeking out over low-rise pants, spaghetti-strap sports bras that couldn’t support a kiwi fruit, and male unitards (yes, I’ve seen them sported around the gym — scary is all I can say). Practically bit my tongue in half when plumber’s crack made surprise appearances. But for some odd reason, those stripper clothes posing as workout shorts just did me in.
The whole matter has left me dumbfounded, a tad ill, and generally tired. I can only figure it’s because I’m old. So, count me out. I’m hanging it up, embracing my inner MeeMaw. Time for me to join the “blinking VCR clock” club. You’ll find me shaking my fist at booming car stereos, retelling stories I’ve already shared (and starting those stories with “when I was your age…”), and eating dinner at 4:30 p.m. I might even spruce up my wardrobe with a few lace-up, white Keds and elastic waist crop pants. ‘Cause if those dang shorts pass for bona fide workout clothes these days, my time has passed.
• NSCA certified personal trainer Shannon Sorrels has a bachelor’s degree in chemistry and an MBA. Her Ahwatukee-based company, Physix LLC, works with Valley individuals and groups to improve their overall fitness. Reach her at (480) 528-5660 or visit www.azphysix.com.