It’s a shock. Here I am a year away from being 90, and realize I only have about a decade left. I figure I’ll be checking out at around age 100. My dad lived to be 92, my mom 103, so it’s my last inning. Plus I’m not gonna stick around if things get dicey, but that’s an entirely other subject (of which I actually know quite a bit, and will probably do a post some day titled ”Final Exit.”)
A few years ago, I read a quote from writer Gay Talese in Vanity Fair, where he said: “You figure, what can they do to me now? At 82, you can do anything or say anything you want — you’re bulletproof.…”
That rang a bell with me. Like you can’t be held accountable when you’re so old. Or at least we should get a break.
”Oh, I’ve told you this story before?”
Well I’m 80 years old. What do you expect?
“So I keep talking about the Good Old Days…”
Yeah?
“What was your name?”
“So I called a woman a girl…”
“No, I didn’t get your text message…”
I don’t think it’s necessarily dementia or Alzheimer’s (even mild versions) that cause the shaky memory in later years. Memory is not infinite, and as Rick just said, “The hard drive is full.”
I can remember some things from when I was four years old, but I can’t remember the name of a movie I saw last week.
And it sucks not to remember names. I’ve met so many people over the years — many are fans of my books — that I usually don’t have a clue as to who or when or how we met before.
Fitness Through the Decades
I was in my best shape, when you consider age along with strength, flexibility and cardiovascular condition — at ages 55-65 or so. Part of this is certainly that for 20 years, I published fitness books and hung out with a world-class runner, a bodybuilding legend, and the world’s foremost stretching authority.
I was a competitive runner, did a few triathlons, lifted weights, surfed, and went to aerobics classes. (Fun! Exercising to rock ’n’ roll and usually being the only guy amidst all the girls …er… women.)
I was 19th in the Dipsea Race (58:59) when I was 54, and 18th when I was 65 (1:07). I did 5-mile paddle races, surfed, and didn’t feel a real lack of strength.
BUT tempus fugit. By the time I got into my 70s, the wear and tear of a physical lifetime manifested itself. Two shoulder operations, two knee operations, and a carpal tunnel operation.
Around age 80, I was really slowing down — in strength, flexibility, and cardiovascular capability.
A compound fracture skateboarding at age 83 really shook me up.
(I got maybe the best complement of my life about a week after the accident, when I was walking down by the post office, a sadsack with arm in cast, and a young skateboarder looked over at me and said, “Respect.”)
What’s Going On with Octogenarians (and Older)
Nature is trying to compost us. To pull us back into the basic elements from which we came. Older people get stooped over; it’s gravity pulling us back into the earth.
The wear and tear of the years, plus nature’s timetable, are steadily subtracting physical skills and abilities, so as you age, it’s a dance — of coping, of adjusting, of doing whatever you can to continue life as robustly and as vital as possible.
What Can You (Baby Boomers) Do About It?
Don’t give up. Don’t become sedentary. Get out that door!
Remember two words: activity and diet.
I published a book titled Getting in Shape about 30 years ago, and in my research found out that exercise is beneficial for just about every malady: high blood pressure, diabetes, osteoporosis, overweight, even cancer. Exercise helps healing just about every condition.
Exercise is also, I’ve found lately, the cure for depression. With the recent loss of so many loved ones in the last year or so, I’ve found that hiking, paddling, cycling, gardening — and especially cold water — invariably pull me out of the depths of despair. It’s so simple.
What I‘m Doing About Exercise These Days
In Plato’s Republic, Greek education consisted of three elements: grammatikē (grammar), musikē (music), and gymnastikē (gymnastics). Grammatikē meaning literacy; musikē referring to the lyrics, tunes and rhythms of music, as well as poetry; gymnastikē being fitness: keeping the body in shape.
Or, as Ida Rolf said: "The mind and the body are the same thing. One is a reflection of the other."
Or Dolly Parton saying: “I’d much rather wear out than rust out.”
I lost a lot of conditioning the last couple of years due to stress, and now I’m trying to get back in shape:
Surfing: I’ve finally given it up. I have trouble getting up to a standing position, there are always too many people in the water, and it’s a drag being so lame out there. BUT I’ve got a great new knee board that I’m going to try riding prone and/or on my knees. We’ll see.
Paddling: This I can still do, and love. I have a 12-foot Joe Bark racing paddleboard that weighs only 21 pounds, and skips across the water like a water skeeter. I can actually get a wake going. This morning I left my truck over at Stinson Beach; tomorrow I’m gonna paddle over there (2.75 miles), get a hamburger and milkshake at the Parkside stand, and drive the board and me back home. The best kind of exercise is that which includes adventure.
Cycling: I’m still loving my Specialized Turbo Levo pedal-assist electric bike. Each time I take it out and get that push — hey, this is fun! And off I go, usually up into the hills.
Hiking: Whenever and wherever I can, especially on Tuesday nights when I meet my running pals
Swimming: I’m starting to swim again at the Aquatic Park cove in San Francisco, hopefully once a week. I’m wimping out by wearing a sleeveless shorty wetsuit (as opposed to maybe 90% of the swimmers going wetsuit-less). But that cold water, once I get by the discomfort (i.e., pain) of the first couple of minutes, is a tonic. A chi-booster
Skateboarding: The love of my active life. I’m out of practice and kind of awkward these days, but once I get rolling on a gentle downhill slope, I can carve — the same as in surfing. EXCEPT when I fall, it’s not in the water. I’m way more careful now than I used to be.
My New Mode(s) of Comunication
I’m actually excited to be entering the last decade, the final chapter. It coincides with my shift to Substack, a more robust Instagram, and in the future, YouTube videos. (plus a book every few years).
I’m happy with the books I’ve produced in the past 50 years. There are actually millions of copies — in both building and fitness — circulating all over the world, and now that I’m just about free of running a business, I can devote my time to journalism and reporting.
Over and Out on the Subject of Aging
If I don’t remember your name, if I don’t respond to your text, if I repeat myself or keep talking about The Way Things Were — hey, I’m 89. (Bulletproof.)
In terms of aging well, I like to remind myself that nobody can steal money I've already spent. At 62, I already know I'm in no danger of dying young, or of my demise being "tragic." I've had too good a time for the whole package to ever be tragic. You do it well, Lloyd. I wanna be like you when I grow (up? old? wise?).
I’m 26 and I really appreciate your words. My dad is also almost on his final lap. One of the things he never seemed to do in life was to find a purpose. I saw how that affected his life, so I’m desperately seeking one. Do you have any kind words to share or have you written about this in your own life?