Derrière Sagging? Watch the Olympics

Just look at those Olympic contenders! As if anyone could turn away. We marvel at their skills. Also at the courage and grit written on their faces. And their bodies look like what they are--athletic and vigorous. Compare them with what passes for beauty in the media these days: thinness to the point of anorexia, figures sculpted by cosmetic surgeons going for the ideal of fashion magazines. These same magazines that, not long ago, touted the "heroin addict look"-- vacant, kohl-rimmed eyes, disheveled hair, spindly bodies with ribs that could be played like a xylophone.

In a culture that worships appearance, Olympic beauty is the kind we ought to be glorifying: healthy, strong, whatever the body type. And those types come in incredible variety, from the sleek but sturdy compactness of the gymnastics teams to Missy Franklin, the amazing 6 foot 1 inch Gold Medal swimmer. Though there are optimal (note that word--not "ideal") body types for particular sports, even within a sport they vary. Consider women's weightlifting champs China's Wang Mingjuan, a contender at 105 pounds, and Cheryl Haworth, a bronze medalist in 2000 at nearly 300 pounds. Such variety presents a clear message: in the Olympics, bodies are respected more for function--and how beautifully they execute their moves--than for intrinsic form.

Which is a notion we midlifers should celebrate. Of course we're looking a lot different today than we did at twenty-five. As I say in one of my poems, "Gravity wins, hands down--also boobs down." So our boobs may not be perky, but if our mammograms are clear, let's count our blessings. Our waists may be thickening, but we can still bend and snatch a six- month-old from her crib. Our thighs are webbed with spider veins, the flaps under our upper arms could lift us in a high wind, but our legs still get us through a bracing walk and those arms through a set of tennis. That's gold medal quality performance on my scorecard.

My daughter at 8 with Aunt Ruth at 88

At eighty, my great-aunt had a chinning bar installed in the bathroom of her miniscule New York apartment. Aunt Ruth exercised--pull-ups on that bar and sit-ups on a mat near her bed-- every morning, and walked brisk miles through Manhattan streets well into her nineties. She was determined to stay as fit as she could as long as she could. Now that's a winner. 

Almost every competitor at the Games is young. The most senior this year is a seventy-one-year-old equestrian Hiroshi Hoketsu. Dana Torres, the swimmer who almost made it to London, was considered way past her prime at forty-five. Of course youth reigns at the Olympics. But those kids are positive examples for our kids and grandkids... and for us. They're living illustrations of a maxim that applies to bodies of all ages: function over form. Keep that in mind, keep that in muscle memory, midlifers! 

Why do so many of us have body image issues? Beyond using the Olympics as a teachable moment, what can we do to reinforce positive body image in the girls and young women in our lives? And what about us...is it ever too late to appreciate our bodies for the work they do instead of focusing on the flaws we see? Let's hear from you.