I joined the gym. I tried to find one not populated with the “beautiful people”, no such thing exists. So, here I was, surrounded by physiques immune to imperfection.

I met with my personal trainer, Sergio, and closely complied with his instructions for my assessment. He was very positive, looking for any opportunity to make me feel good about my strength and stamina. “Give my five!” he cheered, as I finished some type of contortion that involved a big blue ball.

I started to relax. I stood up straighter, my ego intact. “Maybe I’m in better shape than I thought,” I let myself believe. Now, encouraged, I said to Sergio, “I see there are classes here. Which one do you think I should sign up for?”

Without hesitating, he pronounced, “the silver classes.” Silver, I contemplated. Silver, gold, bronze, I silently reviewed. Not bad.

I went downstairs and took a copy of the class schedule. I noticed that all the silver classes were in the middle of the day.

Questioning the times with the receptionist, she informed me, “Silver is our silver hair classes.” Back to reality, I slithered out the door.

laura@realwomenwin.com #bereal