The good news: I’ve taken up tennis again. Well, at least I’m embarking on lessons; I’m not quite U.S. Open material yet.

The bad news: In the few years that have elapsed since I’ve wielded a racquet, my tennis togs have gotten a wee bit tighter. Sure, I could head to our neighborhood Modell’s and stock up on a few cute frocks, kicking it up, size-wise, from a Small to a Medium. But A) that just depresses the hell out of me and B) it doesn’t address the ongoing issue of “pound creep.” Though my weight is pretty stable, there’s no question that I’m not clocking in at my high-school numbers, which is, I’ve gleaned recently, the new Holy Grail.

At least that’s the gospel according to a few smart books I’ve been reading: Younger Next Year for Women and The High School Reunion Diet. Though mamas of every age can learn tons from these two tomes, if you’re in your 40s like yours truly, they’ll really strike a chord.

Because I want to go running before it gets too hot outside today, I’m only doing a brief Momover Express recap of the first book – Younger Next Year – for you. Written by one Chris Crowley, a dude in his 70s (with a forty-something doctor co-author), it’s totally tough-love. But that’s why it’s so compelling. This guy doesn’t sugar-coat anything about getting older, but his core message is this: “You do have to age, but you don’t have to rot.”

A big part of “rotting,” per Crowley, is just giving in to the chubbiness gods, and not freaking out as you steadily add a pound or two with each passing year. He basically wants us to freak out, but in a totally productive manner involving cutting waaaay back on our calories (sadness) and getting tons of exercise. He’s really big on weights, but also wants us to get our aerobics on. You know, by going running. Or huffing and puffing around a tennis court. Keep that up, and you’ll be shopping for smaller clothes, not bigger.