

I’ve been working out at home since the late '70s/early '80s, as I found gyms in that era seriously woman-unfriendly. Isplurged for a simple bench, a barbell/dumbbell set, a cheap area rug and a book by Arnold Schwarzenegger on workouts for women. At my peak, I was pressing 130% of my body weight, and able to bring my head down to my knees without fracturing a vertebra. Nowadays, my aim is to be able to carry my own groceries 9 blocks home, chase the cat up the stairs and down the hall when it’s time for his meds, and defend my wallet as needed.
I prefer this. It allows me to focus, protects me from dorks who think I need their advice or should surrender the machine I’m on because they need it, saves $75-100 a year in membership fees, the cost of ‘proper’ gym clothes, the time and money travelling and I can work out when it fits into my day. I recommend it, but you will need a level of self-discipline and a daily routine that works for you. Don’t just buy the weights and start flinging them around: find a good book or two/a couple of websites and learn about basic nutrition needs, the best times for exercising, and why you need to cycle your exercises and take a day off regularly.
Don’t be discouraged if it takes a while to get into it, and see results. If you miss some time, just go back to it when you can. I can’t explain how good it feels every day, being fit, but it is worth it!
Every now and then, I sit back in wonder: when I was born, DNA had only recently been confirmed as the ‘carrier’ of heredity (it is, as always with science, much more complicated than that), and we hadn’t yet isolated the bases or realised that it varied from one species to the next. We were clueless about the double helix, RNA, enzymes, ribosomes… I have been incredibly fortunate to live when I have, especially as it rather looks like the pursuit of knowledge is about to take a firm backseat to the exercise by money of absolute power. Thanks to all those people who gave a lifetime to slowly answering so many of an old woman’s questions.
Edit: Except Richard Feynman, who was a misogynistic, self-centred jerk. You got your rewards in life, bub: may you spend all eternity surrounded by grad students who have never heard of Feyman diagrams and hate the bongo drums.