I had my instructor fitness test two weeks ago. I am so glad it's over because it's been weighing heavily (har har) on me since I found out about it last April.
The fitness test was implemented by the resort in 2011, because legally, in interviews, you can't say things like, "So, you look pretty old. Have you noticed that you get tired faster than young, vibrant people?" or "I see you have several rolls of rubbery fat around your midsection. Tell me about a time when you saw a capable athlete who had similar rolls of rubbery fat."
But what you can say is: "For your safety, we want to make sure you can achieve the minimum requirements of an instructor! So, come to this big hot room and do a bunch of awkward shitty things in front of a lot of people, most of whom are half your age! We'll grade you!"
Actually, the test wasn't that hard but there were parts of it that were. Like, 15 pushups in one minute. (Yeah, they let you do them on your knees, but still! I had to practice for two months to even do that.)* Then there were other things that tested coordination, balance, flexibility, and aerobic stamina, which was the easiest part for me (a one foot box that you have to step up-up and down-down on, alternating 96 steps per minute for five minutes. Piece of cake. mmmmmm.....caaaake....) Then, when you pass the test, they want to measure functional movement, which involves squatting, lunging and a few other things you never, ever do in real life for very good reasons.
So you go through the drill in groups of four, and each little area has a person with a clipboard and a concertedly non-judgmental eye, and it was all fine until I noticed that the group behind me was made up of four adorable 20-something women wearing shorty short shorts--I mean these shorts were so short that the only thing that kept me from descending into a downward spiral of self-consciousness was remembering this: I'm a granny, and I've got this. So there.
And I passed. Then, they analyzed my joints and cartilage. This involved lying on a very comfortable exam table--serious!--and having a PT pull and rotate knees, shoulders, hips, etc. I thought it was very relaxing, kind of like the scalp massage you get before a haircut. Honestly, I could have taken a little nap right then and there, and I told the PT that, and she thought it was hilarious. Apparently, no one has ever said that before. This was my second clue (the first being that instead of shorty short shorts, I was wearing sensible loose-fitting clothing) that I am easing into Kooky Funny Old Lady Status. This status, as we all know, gives grannies like me the privilege of freely saying what's on our minds, because what in younger people is just obnoxious or inappropriate is downright hilarious in us. I am finding it very, very liberating.
And so next is orientation, and then there's shadowing, and then I get to introduce this amazing sport to kids age 7-teen. Hope they're as ready for me as I am for them!
*(Pushup side note: when I was on cortisone during toe surgery rehab, I was banging out pushups like nobody's business. I was Barry Bonds: on my toes, not getting tired--I was a BEAST! Of course, I also hated everybody, and I felt like driving my car into a tree. But still--the power!)
