Aging Gracefully

Call Me Shakira Because My Hips Don’t Lie

Shake, dip, roll…and creak?

My hips don’t lie about their age. They don’t lie about what I’ve been doing to them for the past couple of years and they don’t lie about how they feel about it.

Two years ago, if you would have put your hand up on my hip, I could have dipped, you dip, we dip, but today my hips are a little bit creaky and I’m about to tell you why.

Hips like Shakira

I used to dance-walk to Shakira. Our hips were twins from other mothers. I could shake it. And I’d do it in public. I’d walk down Dallas’ fancy trails with my earbuds in, smiling at passersby as my hips echoed her songs step by booty-shaking step.

In August of 2021, I started working in a preschool classroom. My hips didn’t say much at first. They just tried to make it work, hobbling my 5-foot, 9-inch form in a perpetual stoop to hold tiny fingers and hands.

One of the kids in our class started grabbing. Like grabbing. All of the places that were not places a kid should grab. My hips responded, curling outward to hide my booty as I hobbled down the hallway in my perpetual stoop.

My hips start to say “nah”

I was hiking the hills in Napa, California in March of 2022 when my right hip shifted. Weird, I thought. When we got halfway down the hill, I tried to stretch it out. It stopped hurting, but never shifted back.

I got home and resumed my booty-hiding and perpetual stoop.

A week or so later, one of the other behavioral students in our class was running and I chased after them. I felt something pop in my left groin.

Ouch.

I tried to stretch it out.

Double Ouch.

I limped home at the end of the day and returned the next, limping, booty-hiding, and hobbling in my perpetual stoop.

No lie

Three weeks or so later, a student whipped a block at my outstretched left, limpy leg. It hit my kneecap and my whole leg stiffened and didn’t let go.

Hello, workman’s comp.

My left hip burned deep with the pressure of muscles that were frozen mid-contraction.

The urgent care gave me an injection and muscle relaxers. I got taken off of work because the doctor said I couldn’t stoop anymore.

Medical professionals can hear my hips?

My hips had told me for months that stooping was a bad idea. I was starting to listen to my wise ball-and-hinges. The job was not good for my body, but still I finished.

I came back at half capacity for the last week so I could call an end to the year that was so hard on all of me —not just my hips.

Over the summer, I tried strength training. I tried stretching and walking slowly. I tried lifting beginning in the fall (and quitting my job), but still, my hips were not happy. This past weekend, I decided to try something new.

I decided to return to my 12-year-old passion: water aerobics.

That’s right, when I was 12, I was a silver sneaker. I loved water aerobics. My hips loved water aerobics. What did I have to lose?

To the pool!

I’ve gone twice so far this week, Monday and then Wednesday.

Today, my hips feel juicy. In 20 minutes, my 36-year-old body will be heading to the pool for the third time this week to do my somewhat slower Shakira in a safe environment.

Moving like I want to feels so gratifying. Because I’m not required to hold up my whole body weight, I can move and fall and kick and sway without fear.

That alone might be the thing that is making my hips feel lovely and soft and full of motion. But my hips don’t lie. They are growing increasingly happy and all I’m doing is singing the YMCA with a host of pleasant 70-somethings.

Today, I’m doing YMCA arms in a pool. Next year? Hopefully, I’ll be back at my booty-shaking walks to Shakira in the sunshine.

I’m Brett Jenae Tomlin, The Anxious Enthusiast.

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