I came across a post by NPR earlier today that hit close to home on several levels. The blurb accompanying it mentioned that, while women on average live longer than men, they are more likely to finish their lives in assisted living facilities because they cannot lift things by themselves anymore– so it’s more difficult for them to do basic housework, for example.

I pride myself on being stronger (or, at least as strong as) my husband, as proven by my box-and-furniture-lifting skillz during our recent moving adventure. It doesn’t bother him that I say this, really 😉 But the fact of the matter is, after 30 men and women both lose up to 5% of their muscle mass each decade thanks to sarcopenia– age-related muscle loss. That decline speeds up each year, so by age 75 the figure jumps up to 15% loss of muscle mass each decade. I turned 31 this year, so I’m now officially in the sarcopenia zone. If I continue to focus on cardio exercise, and limit my “weight lifting” to whenever my daughter says “Mama, up!”, my muscle mass will steadily decrease each year from here on out.

My grandma is 86, and recently moved in to a small house on the grounds of a larger assisted living facility. She was still completely independent– going on vacations, driving herself everywhere, socializing– until about a month ago, when she pulled a muscle in her back lifting a small side table.

Backs are tricky things. We abuse them with our sitting-and-working habits, we neglect them in favor of svelte arms or powerful legs when we *do* exercise, and then we ask them to do awful things like twist and lift toddlers and grocery bags at awkward angles (often without bending our knees! Please, for the love of all that is good in the world, bend your knees when you stoop to lift things!). If you’re going to injure yourself lifting something, chances are good that it will be a back injury.

(I once heard that all it takes is bending over and lifting the weight of a paperclip with poor form to throw your back out. I couldn’t find verification of that, but part of me believes it.)

One small thing can have big consequences, and the pulled muscle has taken a toll on my grandma’s confidence in herself to be independent. She has stopped driving, passed up her yearly summer vacation, and has someone come over every morning to help her out around the house, now.

For months now I’ve been saying that I’m going to start weight training. I finally set up my “exercise area” in the basement. Right next to the cat litter (motivation to keep it clean?). I’ve got my bike trainer, my daughter’s old play mat for some cushioning, my growing collection of dumbbells, a medicine ball, and a brand-new kettle bell. I hope this was the wake-up call I needed to finally get in gear.