Tempus fugit. Time flies. And one of life’s biggest ironies is that it seems to accelerate as you age, so that, for the young, nothing can come fast enough, then at some point during adulthood it has all passed like speeded up film, then, I suppose there will be a time when it has all disappeared…Pfffttt! Out like a light; although I prefer not to linger on that thought.

For those of us who can no longer consider ourselves to even be middle-aged [a term that alters as the years pass to refer to an older and older age], there are often reminders of our elderly state.

There are the obvious health issues. Bits begin to wear out or become troublesome. Many people are spared doctor and hospital ministrations- the lucky ones, from having ‘good genes’ perhaps and/or having lived following a healthy lifestyle. Recent health crises in my own life lead me to believe that the genes are the stronger influence, since I’ve done my best with exercise and diet for most of thetime- if you ignore the student years…

And while I believe that genes have caused most of my own issues to date, I continue to exercise on a regular basis and eat the items we’re being told to and eschew the foodstuffs we should avoid [mostly].

For me, exercise must be enjoyable in order for it to be sustained. If it hurts [too much] or is boring, I don’t want to know.

My favourite activity has always been dance exercise. In the beginning there was aerobics. Then, along came step aerobics. I fell in love with leaping about on and over the step, probably doing untold damage to my joints in the process.

During this time, middle age, I also ran. I ran all the days I wasn’t doing step aerobics [ie 4 days a week], 5k or so on weeknights and longer distances at weekends. I had no days off.

I continued this way for years until an unnerving crunch sprang up in my leg, feeling like I could collapseat each step. As things worsened, I cut back on running and step aerobics. Then Zumba became a thing and I took to it straight away, joing in with gusto and enjoying the company of other, like-minded dance-exercise enthusiasts.

The pandemic came, killing off live classes. I searched Youtube to find online Zumba classes, of which there were many, though they varied in quality. I tried lots and found a few that suited, which was good enough when confined to home. But there’s nothing like a live class for enjoyment and motivation.

After we were released from confinement I continued with online classes until a new Zumba class popped up in a venue 5 minutes walk away from my house and I shot round there like a rat up a drainpipe. And this, lovely reader, is what I’ve been doing ever since.

EXCEPT; Here’s the thing. I realised my beloved trainers- the ones I went to the specialist running shoe shop for because I pronate, have worn out, demonstrated by the fact that my toe is poking up through the worn fabric and the plastic toeguards are coming away. How long have I had them? Certainly since my running days.

I venture to the specialist running shoe shop, where there is, allegedly a sale on, taking my elderly trainers with me. It’s only a small shop and manned by a single guy- young, dealing with a customer when I arrive. He leaves the customer on the treadmill and comes over. I show him my trainers, at which his eyebrows shoot up towards his hairline.

‘These’ he says. ‘These went out of production when I was seven’.

Goodness. That long ago, then?

He sells me a later version of the shoes. 40% off. I’m happy, even if I’m old…EXCEPT: Now my hips are protesting blue murder and all exercise is suspended for the forseeable…bleurgh…

Novels by Jane Deans [Grace]: The Year of Familiar Strangers and The Conways at Earthsend. Visit my website: janedeans.com