The three of us are former co-workers and left the Washington area at different times to move to Charlotte. Our initial reunion was a celebration over Jamaican food. Since then, all our other outings reflect a journey toward a lifestyle change.

We’re each eating healthier foods, exercising regularly and striving for health-conscious living. Those goals came up during our first luncheon so we decided to focus future gatherings around exercise instead of indulgent eating. And, while we wanted to eat something, of course, we agreed to meet at each other’s homes and serve up low-fat, low-sugar home-cooked lunches.

We’ve been doing this now every month or so for a year, and let me tell you, it is a wonderful way to get together with friends. It’s been a culinary adventure that we don’t feel guilty about, a chance to experiment with new ways to exercise and, most of all, a time for us to talk.

We have no specific plans, our gatherings are unfolding as we go along. One friend, Patrice, lives in a lakefront community so we walked, briskly, for more than an hour through her scenic neighborhood during our first outing. Back at her house, she served up a tasty salad.  At Nzinga’s place, we walked through a nearby park and then ate some of her delicious  jambalaya. That’s when the recipe-sharing began, and our chats about food tips we’ve learned.

When it was my turn to host, we worked out at a gym in my neighborhood. On other outings, we joined Patrice at a Zumba dance fitness class and Nzinga for a water aerobics class. I got hooked on Zumba and later started taking classes. I ate broccoli slaw for the first time at Nzinga’s home and was introduced to quinoa by Patrice. One friend ate arugula for the first time when I served it one day. Patrice told us recently about a favorite turkey meatloaf recipe with lots of garlic and dried cranberries and we got it a few days ago via email. I sent out a recipe for chicken salad with curry and apples last month.

Recently, we went walking on a crisp, sunny morning, around a former plantation in South Carolina, about an hour away from Charlotte. Historic Brattonsville features a Revolutionary War battlefield site and than 30 colonial structures, including a brick cabin used by the enslaved people who worked on the former plantation located there. (Brick homes for slaves were rare but the owners of the plantation were so rich that they wanted to show off, according to museum docents.)

Next month, we’re planning to take a boot camp exercise class. We don’t know what we’ll do after that, only that it will encourage physical activity and enriching conversation. Call a few of your friends and set a date to go walking. Let me know about your adventures.

Also, the Melt the Middle Challenge returns Nov. 1. Fellow blogger Yvonne Shinhoster Lamb and I set out last fall to reduce the size of our waistlines and didn’t have as much success as we hoped. We’re trying again and hope you’ll join us.

Slave house

Slave house

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1. Melting the middle with friends
2. Trying to melt the middle, again
3. Melting the middle, at last

For a few moments, I was a bit confused. The idea of being a senior is foreign to me. That’s not how I think of myself, and neither do any of my other 50-something Baby Boomer friends.  My voice almost cracked  when I responded, “Why are you asking?”

My daughter gave me the envelope she was holding and pointed to the return address, which included the words senior healthcare. The letter was addressed to me and came from my new physicians’ group here in North Carolina. I didn’t choose the doctors because I think of myself as a senior or because I have significant health problems. I figured it would be a good idea to have specialists who would already know my health history when I’m really old.  

Studies show that Baby Boomers, who range in age from 46 to 64, are fighting the description of people over 50 as seniors, unless, of course, it is used for those who are at least 80-years-old. A recent survey showed that Boomers feel much younger than their actual ages, and as age increases, the gap between their real age and perceived age expands. Turning 50, many say, is the new 40.

I looked at my daughter and could see the fear in eyes. For a 15-year-old, someone who is 30 is considered old, so a description of someone as a senior means ancient, near death. I reached over, gave her a hug, and told her, “No, I’m not a senior.”  

When life spans were shorter, turning 50 meant old age.  But at a time when older adults are still having kids, skydiving, running marathons and learning the latest dance steps, age is a state of mind.

If you’re over 50, how do you think of your age? Are you a senior or not?

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This is one of the realities of being a Sandwich Generation mother in my mid-50s with a relatively young teenager (my daughter turns 15 this month.) It doesn’t bother me. There are plenty Baby Boomers who didn’t start families until their forties. I’ve just been noticing the age differences between other parents and me since we moved to North Carolina a few months ago. 

It’s probably because I’m no longer a part of my longtime circle of friends, who also are Baby Boomers with young teenagers. Over the years, our children grew up together, attended the same schools and were involved in many of the same activities. There were more of us in the crowd of other parents so no one stood out. 

That fact that I’m older than many other parents in my daughter’s world didn’t really hit me until the recent Girl Scout parent meeting. I was talking to one of the other moms about an upcoming outing when she called me “Miss Mae.” Here in the South such greetings are reserved for older folks in a show of respect. Call me Mae, I said.

Oh well. I’m a Sandwich Generation mom and loving it. Are you experiencing the parent age gap too?

By the way, join Soul Rhythms blogger Yvonne Shinhoster Lamb and I in the Melt the Middle Challenge. Let’s shrink our waistlines over the next six months.

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1. Riding the kiddie roller coasters
2. Teaching cell phone etiquette
3. Me & Grandma: Teaching my daughter to cook