Just recently, I was at an airport gate for a seat assignment.

The gentleman assigning seats looked at me, smirked, and said, "Mary Jane."

Now, I know that smirk and the not-so-subtle slang associated with my name.

But, folks, this blog isn't about marijuana—it's about hips,

my hips--sorry,

but I enjoyed writing this opening tease.

Yes, those trusty hip joints that have danced, jumped, and kicked for over four decades.

I remember an audition where I was asked to kick as high as I could.

Let's just say my flexibility was so impressive my leg floated easily beyond my shoulders and head.

I got the gig!

But now, after years of putting my hips through the wringer,

I can't even float my leg over my bike seat.

The cartilage has waved the white flag and called it quits.

I often wonder, where did it go?

Did my body absorb it like some kind of superhero power-up?

Can the surgeon just piece it back together like a jigsaw puzzle?

The doctors call it

"wear and tear," "arthritis," "degenerative bone disease"—

fancy terms for, "Your hips are tired, and you're aging."

And, yes, it’s still tough to hear and accept.

There's pressure in the wellness world to always appear physically well.

But, let’s be honest, after years of high kicks and teaching fitness and yoga,

my hips have earned their retirement.

It's time for new parts.

I'm getting new parts installed this summer.

Titanium, ceramics, cement and screws.

Can't wait to float my legs-- not over my shoulders and head...

more like over the bike seat!

The next time I'm at the airport there might be a smirk about my name

but there'll be an accusing look when I trigger the metal detectors.

It won't be for weed.