Someone asked me online recently how I felt about getting old. While I was tempted to launch into another of my characteristic snarky-style responses, I exercised uncharacteristic self-control and provided the following:
At 78, I guess I qualify for the “old” category.
Occasionally, there are days when I wish it weren’t so but I settled into being “the oldest in the room in most situations” some time ago.
I actually kind of relish it these days – to try to emulate what “old” doesn’t have to be i.e. the grumpy, immobile, smelly ol’ fart most people think of when they think of someone my age. Like this:
I strive to be the opposite – because I can.
Make getting old a game!
As I reflect on it, I realize I’ve turned it into sort of a “game” – a rather high-stakes game in some regards.
I know that I am going to “get” old. But that doesn’t mean that I have to “grow” old. I’ve learned that I have considerable control over the pace and the way that I age.
In my 50s, I began to realize that I was often being acknowledged as “younger than my age” because of my physical appearance and the types of activities that I was involved in. The appearance was assisted with a bit of genetics (full head of brown hair, even today) and a slender build but it was mostly about what I was doing to maintain that appearance.
When I came to my senses at age 37 and quit smoking (an 18 year trip of insanity), I became a “gym rat” and active exerciser, starting off doing long-distance running. In 1987, at age 45, I joined a new athletic club and got back into one of my favorite activities – basketball. But I also began to get active in the club’s weight room, doing aggressive free weight work in addition to the basketball.
I played basketball 5–6 days a week until age 63 when my left knee (and my ortho doc) said no more. For years, I was always the oldest player on the court.
Since I’m now not supposed to run or jump and should not have both feet off the ground at the same time, I’m relegated to an elliptical, treadmill, and upright bike.
Boring? Big time!!
My strength-training continues. Boring also.
That’s why I make it a game. Because I realize the stakes if I choose not to play the game.
For decades now, I have held to an exercise regimen of six days of 45–60 minutes of aerobic each week and 3 days of 30–40 minutes of strength-training, still mostly free-weights.
It’s built into my lifestyle and the driver is the realization that not much else matters if I don’t feel well. Read Full Article.
I follow this quote
“The purpose of life is not to be happy. It is to be useful, to be honorable, to be compassionate, to have it make some difference that you have lived and lived well.”
― Ralph Waldo Emerson
Don’t sacrifice your OWN happiness. You can be useful, honourable and compassionate and still be happy yourself. If your not happy there still might be time to change some of your present activities to make you happier and still be of service to others.
I’m intrigued which is why I read this. I’m just 65 tall, slim, healthy. Last October I rode my bicycle 65 miles in one day with no training. I had been working as a swimming instructor for 3 years I’ll be 66 in a few weeks.
I haven’t swum since Covid closed the gym in March Now that my pubic hair has grown back (too much chlorine) I don’t think I’ll be teaching.
My 92 pound dog walks me 2 x a day.
Tendinitis and grinding bones has stopped my weight lifting.
My sleep is poor but we’re getting a sleep number bed next week.
My main problem is procrastination which I’ve struggled with all my life.
Gary,
I am afraid that I can’t answer the question–because I don’t know what it feels like to be old. I am a couple of months away from being 66. Aside from a few dents in the armor and the odd new part or two, I feel the same as I did at 46–except my diet is better.
And, I have a bit less hair–but, so what?