I was at the gym this morning and for some reason as I looked around I realized that many of my gym-peers are “mature” in years like I am. Many are grandparents.  As I made my way into the spin room I noticed the same thing.  Some of my fellow spinners could be grandparents. Hmmm.

Then I got to thinking about my own grandmother Amelia.  She was 4’11” and 205.  She was a typical Italian Nonna.  While she never took a spin class; executed a round house kick in Combat or deadlifted 50 pounds in Body Pump, she did :

• Roll out 20 pounds of pizza dough for a dozen trays of pizza. (and lift that huge Gemma Oil can each and every time)
• Hand roll 50 pounds of laundry through that machine that could suck you in and flatten your hand in 3 seconds. (and carry the perfectly folded laundry back up the break neck cellar steps)
• Sweep the porch and sidewalk with the concentration and precision of a surgeon.
• Rock a baby for hours while singing slightly off key.
• Walk a mile to church and back wearing heels and hose and never breaking a sweat. This could have quite possibly equated to a 10K if she attended daily mass.

Let’s say, the for sake of argument, that my grandmother did in fact spin.

• Would her Italian Nonna black shoes fit in the straps or would she clip in like a true Italian racer?
• Would the Aquanet and bobby pins hold her hair in that tight bun?
• Upon returning home, would she have the strength to percolate a pot of coffee and fry some dough with powered sugar on top?
• Would her gently worn and soft housecoat catch in the seat when out in hand position 3?
• Perhaps she could use her moppina to wipe the sweat away.
• Would her junk hang off the back? Oh Lord!

To go just one step further, let’s make her a playlist:

• The Tarantella
• Mack the Knife by Bobby Darin
• That’s Amore by Dean Martin
• Funiculi, Funicula
• Come Fly With Me by Frank Sinatra
• Volare!
• O Solo Mio or Santa Lucia
• and anything by Puccini

Arguably, some of the world’s best cyclists are Italian. Maybe it’s in my genes to be a spinner and some day a silver sneakers spinner. I hope I can be a combination of my current me and my grandmother.  I may not have the housecoat or black shoes but I can make a mean cup of Joe and pizza fritte and Chip makes the pizza. I am ready to see where this road takes me.

NOTE: The featured image here shows my grandmother in the middle surrounded by her siblings. (Thanks to my cuz Angie for emailing it to me.)