My six-year-old grandson is fond of that ancient Sphinx riddle which asks: “what creature has four legs in the morning, two legs in the afternoon, and three in the evening? The answer is a human who crawls as a baby, walks upright as an adult and in the evening of life uses a stick.

The ancient Greeks clearly recognized the infirmities that can accompany old age, but 3000 years on do we really have to accept that as we get older we will have to walk with a stick? Is it ever too late to take action to extend good health into old age?

For most of my life I have been firmly in the camp of those who think that playing chess with the window open constitutes exercise. I liked a good walk, but I sat in front of a screen for much of the day and on the few occasions I have tried a gym it had felt an intimidating, alien and competitive place, full of fit people busily proving just how fit they already were.

But I had to admit that I was getting older. I had a recurrent problem with my knee, an occasional twinge with a hip. Keeping up with two small grandchildren was increasingly exhausting. If that’s what it felt like at 65, how would I feel in 10 years’ time, and more importantly how mobile would I be?

So, I joined CrossFit Cairngorm in what felt like a potential  investment in my and my family’s future. I was wary: training alongside athletes who were younger, fitter and lither than me felt like a challenge, particularly for somebody for whom lifting a cup of tea felt more familiar than lifting a bar bell, and who is notorious for her ability to trip over her own feet. I felt nervous that people would be secretly laughing at the older lady in her cardigan and that I would be holding up the classes when I didn’t know what a deadlift was, how to execute it safely and effectively.

But what I discovered was different. CrossFit Cairngorm is a community, and yes when we are doing a workout I often finish last, but like anyone else in that position I’m cheered onward by others who finished faster and stronger. My fear of making a fool of myself has dissipated as I discovered that every movement in the workouts can be scaled to my abilities and changed as that ability has slowly developed.

Am I now super gran? Not at all. But I’ve discovered I really love deadlifting, even if the amount I can lift isn’t huge. But it’s getting weightier, 1.5 kilos at a time. These small achievements and mastering something later in life feel immensely satisfying. The knee hasn’t been an issue for months. 

There are other changes too, in my mental health, general mobility, in the sense of belonging to something bigger than me, in simply deciding to do something for myself that will make me fitter, healthier and more prepared for the challenges of old age to come.  The cardigan is off; the stick doesn’t feel it has to be inevitable.