Faster, stronger, longer. For a longer health span. It’s well-established that exercise can significantly reduce the risk of major diseases, including cancer, cardiovascular disease, and dementia. Also, being fitter and more physically healthy leads to improved mental health. I’m 67 years old, and while I was an average athlete at best as a young man, I’m now at the high end of performance and key health metrics for my age group. The message is clear to me. Working hard, being faster and stronger, and training for longer durations works. Especially when attention is paid to nutrition and other lifestyle factors. See here a summary of the benefits of exercise and, conversely, the risks of frailty, disease and mental illnesses when more sedentary lifestyles are enacted.
Follow my blog and social feeds, where you will see the type of exercise and nutritional strategies I use. I’ve been fortunate to have been involved in sports, sports nutrition, and functional foods for thirty years. As a result, I have a good idea of what works and what is BS. I will support the former with scientific evidence and call out the latter.
Please remember that the challenges I set myself are truly challenging for me. I only complete some of them. If I were to hit every target, then I would not be setting the bar high enough. Injury can stop me, or life can get in the way. But I will give them my best shot and document the good, the bad, and the ugly.
FIND ME ON MEDIUM AT: medium.com/@thestephenmoon
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January 2, 2025Before explaining my misogi challenge, I want to explain the core concept. Then I’ll tell you why I’m pursuing it, together with the big and small challenges I’m entertaining. I encountered misogi during a discussion in a chance meeting with a successful US entrepreneur who explained his annual challenge. He helpfully pointed me toward Michael Easter and his book, The Comfort Crisis. I intuitively recognised the concept, but Easter’s writing on his experience brought it to life for me.
The Roots Of Misogi
Misogi is an ancient Japanese practice rooted in Shinto traditions. It is used as a form of ritual purification. Historically, it involved cleansing the body and mind by immersing oneself in natural elements such as cold water or enduring other physically demanding activities. In modern interpretations, misogi has evolved into a broader philosophy that emphasizes pushing personal boundaries to cultivate resilience, self-awareness, and growth. This latter approach is what piqued my interest in the practice.
At its core, misogi encourages physical or mental discomfort—something challenging enough to reveal one’s limits and help one grow beyond them. These challenges are not about achieving perfection or competition but intentional discomfort as a pathway to mental clarity, focus, and inner strength. I observe that the challenges must have a high probability of failure; if you know you can do it, it’s not a challenge.
Misogi encourages stepping outside of lazy comfort zones to gain profound personal insight and a deeper worldview. That’s the attraction to me: What can I learn about myself and the world I live in by pushing myself out of my comfort zone? I have looked at the concept before in this blog, but life got in the way of my plans.
Tiny & Big Misogi Challenge
Before I tell you about the expected significant challenges, I spent some time thinking about more minor discomforts. I live a cosseted Western lifestyle, with an overabundance of food, warmth and shelter. I rarely leave this comfort zone as I go about my daily life. As a starter, I want to add one small misogi challenge to my daily life. To make me reflect on my lifestyle and understand not only my good fortune but also the fragility of our lives.
I detest the cold and wet. When it’s cold, I wrap up in my cashmere coat. I don my Japanese designer rain jacket as soon as a cloud crosses the grey, winter London sky. I steer away from cold water at all costs. My small starter kit misogi is to encounter freezing water once a week. This tips my cap towards the Shinto cleansing in cold water. Once a week, I will stand under the very cold (designed for post-sauna) shower in my gym. I’ll start with a minute under the shower once a week and build up to three minutes. It’s a small challenge, but it’s outside my comfort zone for me. Indeed, it’s an area I will avoid at all costs.
Of course, the more significant challenges are central to the misogi challenge concept. I have written about one in this blog: I will run my first marathon in my late sixties. It’s a true misogi, which will take me to the mental limit and probably beyond my physical limit. I have less than a fifty percent chance of succeeding. Therefore, it falls hard into the true spirit of misogi.
I am looking to add another challenge to my 2025 list. An ultra-ruck session is one idea. To see how far I can carry a heavy rucksack containing a 20kg weight plate. Is that enough of a challenge? I’m unsure, so I will reflect on it and consider other misogi challenge options. For now, getting very cold once a week and grinding out preparation for November’s New York Marathon is challenging enough.
It Hurts When I Do, It Hurts When I Don’t
At the heart of any misogi challenge is learning from the discomfort. I’m not setting out to simply thrash myself as an end in itself. What I learn about myself while preparing for and engaging in the challenge is critical.
My battered body hurts after exercise. After more brutal sessions, standing up from the sofa at home is difficult. As an aside, I know that if I don’t exercise, my body hurts after a few days. It’s a case of picking my poison – hurting through striving or laziness. As I train for my New York date with my inner self, I want to reflect for a few minutes after every training session. What did I feel, positive or negative, and did it contribute to my misogi challenge or detract from it?
Taking this further, I want to get out there and train when it’s cold or wet or I don’t feel like it—challenging my comfort zone. If it’s worth doing, then it needs sacrifice. To get deep into the concept of cleansing body and mind, I need to push myself and practice mindfulness about what I learn about myself. I know from my last couple of years that pain from injury won’t stop me.
But what about the absolute grind of getting ready for a big challenge? It’s been four years since I completed a physically demanding challenge, with everything from the pandemic to mental illness to accident-related injury standing in my path. It’s time to get back into the week-after-week, month-after-month grind to achieve something which, for me, will be major. I think that’s a challenge worth facing. [...]
December 28, 2024Is 2025 My Last Shot?
The last dance for my big annual athletic event is almost upon me. My mind works like this: I know I have to stay fit to have a decent later life; I’m not naturally athletically gifted, and I need to push myself. I motivate myself by signing up for a big event and training for it. It’s worked well for me, and I have challenged myself in endurance events and strength challenges over the years. But at 67, I have to be sensible and recognise the opportunities for big challenges are diminishing. One more shot, one last dance.
Two memorable annual goals were finishing the surprisingly gruelling 101-mile New York Gran Fondo in 2016 and setting a new deadlift personal record in my late fifties. The last two years have been stinkers. I was knocked off my bike – an innocent domino falling – part of a chain instigated by an errant e-bike. In April 2024, I had my second cycling accident in 50 years, and that put paid to my 2024 goal of running my first marathon.
That’s two years without me hitting my goal. My body has presented me with the invoice for years of wear and tear, and the hammer taken in my two recent accidents snuck in as an eye-watering surcharge. It’s a big bill, and it challenges me to consider whether to go for another big event or to settle back into a less challenging yet still valuable fitness maintenance lifestyle.
What’s It To Be?
What’s it to be? Even as I wrote the last paragraph, I thought, “Yes, take it a bit easier on yourself; do it for general fitness and enjoy it.” It sounds appealing. Or not. It’s not how I roll. There has to be another tilt, a last dance. My life approach has been to set myself big goals. I was brought up in a small Northern town and found it suffocating. I feared being stuck there, and I always looked upwards and outwards.
This isn’t some rags-to-riches story, I hasten to add. I have always been conscious of being an average man, but with a deep inner knowledge that life would be a soul-destroying grind if I didn’t strive for more. Goals of any kind have been a way to make me bring my best effort. Set big goals, or become lost.
I must define big goals. I won’t appear on any awards list. Not in any dimension of life. My idea of a goal is to challenge the person I see in the mirror. When I was younger, I genuinely felt that if I didn’t improve, then life would suck me under the surface and drown me. As I got older, my psychology changed, and I would look at myself in the mirror and say, “Come on, do better.” Fast forward to recent years, and I can look in the mirror, smile at myself, and say, “Let’s do it.”
At this stage in my life, I find, to some extent, I have come full circle. If I don’t have any goals, if I don’t take the last dance, then life will finally suck me under its dark waves, and the current will carry me quickly to the inevitable finish line.
There’s My Answer – A Last Dance
The answer lies in the last paragraph. I need a 2025 goal. I need it to compensate for the disappointment of the previous two years and help me lean into the fourth quarter of my life. This year was to be my first marathon, but serious damage and a head injury cut that short. It’s an unfinished piece of business. I’ve got my entry guaranteed for the New York Marathon on 2 November 2025, and now all I need to do is drag my sub-par body through hundreds of hours of grind and training, and all will be good. Easy, right?
Taking stock, it looks unlikely. I’m a novice runner. At 6’5″ and currently 245 pounds, I don’t look like a runner. I have moderate osteoarthritis in both knees. The right knee has suffered two meniscus tears in three years and doesn’t quite straighten. At 67 years old, my body carries the sum of a long lifetime of minor niggles and chronic wear and tear.
It’s a stark choice between ten months of hard work, carefully managing my physical shortcomings, or accepting that the Last Dance has been and gone. In my heart, I know that living with the latter is more challenging than the hard yards of getting the grind done.
A New Discipline
This is not a simple case of getting out there and doing a bit of running. It’s a tightrope over the swirling white waters of building fitness, recovering well enough, and keeping the injuries to a minimum. It’s not easy, and one stumble will see me in the water, being swept to a third year of failing my fitness goals. I say fitness goals, but that’s a cop-out. Goals that help me keep my psychological and physiological self together.
I call myself a novice runner, but when I totted up my exercise for 2024, I was surprised to see I had laced up the ASICS 80 times. Admittedly, they were all 5-10k runs, but the work happened. It must count for something as I enter 2025’s training block. It gives me a level of confidence, and now I need to build on that sensibly.
My key elements for success at The Last Dance are:
A training plan that recognises not only my fitness needs but my limitations, too.
Holistic management of my injuries and wear and tear.
Ensuring I have enough space to rest and do the other things I enjoy.
Paying attention to nutrition and general health.
Getting Help With My Training
My years of pursuing my interests have taught me that I’m a good student. I will work my backside off to learn everything about my obsession de jour. I’ll learn all I can, put it into practice, and then overdo it. Doing enough is never good enough; I have to do too much. I cannot count the number of times I’ve overtrained and broken down with injury. The last dance needs to be different, and to that end, I have signed up for a top-quality coaching service at Coach Parry.
I’ve been clear on my limitations. Running more than three times a week or on consecutive days does not work for me. I need to limit my volume. This is a tricky one, as preparing for a marathon requires volume by definition. I have been prescribed a plan with three runs, two rest days and two strength sessions. I need to stick to it. As my coach pointed out, I know that if I’m short of road miles, I can top up my cardio work with some indoor Wattbike sessions. There is a way to get it done.
Avoiding Traps, Seeking Support
My traps are twofold. I tend to hit the strength too hard, and it can take three days to recover from a heavy leg session. My focus has to be endurance, and strength training is part of my injury avoidance. To that end, personal best lifts must be shelved for a while. My second trap is not having two rest days a week. If I fail to rest, I will fail; it’s a simple equation.
I have professional help with my training, and I must follow what I am told to do and, as importantly, not do. If I can’t manage my need to overdo things, it’s on me when I fail.
I’m very fortunate to have a small team of fellow runners around me who support me. Our new club happened partly because my cycling days ended this year. But also because any decent-sized group of cyclists will have a strong contingent of multi-sport athletes.
Two of my colleagues are also running marathons in 2025, and one is running at least two half marathons. Hyrox and Ironman events also appear on a couple of calendars. There is enough pain for everyone to go around our small club. ChainGangRunners is small by design but consists of like-minded people, and I know they will be a massive source of support for me.
Managing Wear & Tear
Sixty-seven years old and an ungainly running style is not exactly a formula for success at the last dance, but it’s what it is. Now, how do I manage my limited resources?
An obvious one is to drop some weight. I’ve done some rucking, and I’m always surprised by how hard it is to carry 40 pounds in a backpack. It isn’t just perception; it comes through in the training stress score. Now imagine if I can take something off the 245-pound load I carry around every minute of every day. I’ve always battled with weight, even as a kid. So I can’t set some absurd goal. At this stage, my target is to lose 20 pounds over the next ten months. That has to help.
The most apparent physical weakness I have is my knees. My osteoarthritis diagnosis isn’t a shock. I feel it when I lie in bed every night on training days. After hard days, I’ll feel it around the clock for two or three days. I make a noise when I get up from my overly low sofa at home. On bad days, I roll off the couch to the floor first and then push myself to my feet—the unglamorous and brutal reality of later-life hard training. No big deal, as I know much younger professional athletes can deal with this as early as their twenties.
Strength & Mobility
I’m fortunate to work with a top-quality physiotherapist. He has a simple four-exercise routine that helps me immensely: single-leg leg presses, stiff-legged deadlifts, lateral walks with a band on my ankles, and single-leg calf raises. This needs to happen all year. Ensuring I optimise the muscles around my knees is key, and ensuring I don’t have a left-leg to right-leg imbalance is also essential.
I’ve struggled with mobility and flexibility, especially around the hip flexors. This weakness will undoubtedly be an issue as the miles accumulate under my ASICS shoes. The last three months have seen me use the short routine below as a game-changer. Along with my central strength routine, this is a core element of my preparation. Coaches Shona Hendricks and Devlin Eyden are excellent on a day-to-day basis as part of my Coach Parry training package.
Someone recently told me that a major consideration in running is injury. “It’s not if you get injured because you will get injured. It’s what you do when it happens.” I know it will happen to me. Then, I’ll need to see whether any late-life sense has entered my skull or whether I push on, tearing up my ticket to the last dance.
Rest, Recovery, Life
My life changed in October 2023 when I walked away from full-time work after 50 years. That’s a whole different story, but now I’m fully embedded in my new life rhythm, there are some advantages.
The most significant change for me is I sleep at least seven and a half hours a night. If I train hard on any given day, my body will help itself to any extra sleep it needs, so eight hours or more is no longer uncommon. It’s a far cry from my cortisol being off the scale and waking up at three a.m. stressed out. I enjoyed my career, but there was a price to pay. My new portfolio career of advisory roles and coaching is the right amount of challenging for me without the cold sweats.
Two rest days a week and enough sleep should allow me to train well, recover, and go again. This is a novelty in itself. Staying injury-free is a key element in getting to the last dance. Strength, mobility, recovery, and rest are all important.
My fourth quarter of life realignment must also be a plus for me. Seventy hours a week and being “on call” seven days a week for decades was not the best. When you’re in it, you don’t see it. Or if you see it, you don’t accept it. Or you kid yourself that it’s a badge of honour. I’m advising three small-to-medium growth companies and enjoying it immensely. It took me some time to fit this work around my schedule. For too many years, work was first, and everything squeezed around it.
Investing In Health
Only relatively recently have I considered spending money on my health as an investment, not an inconvenient cost. Considering how much I spend on other pursuits, it’s odd that I didn’t see it as an investment. Without good health, nothing else can happen.
Investing in exercise facilities, such as gym memberships, running, and other exercise equipment, is essential. I have a thorough annual medical and take the results seriously. Blood tests are taken twice a year, and I act on any issues in the results. This year, I even had my male hormones checked—all optimal—to ensure that I was lacing up my trainers and in good shape to deliver the training.
I spend possibly £5,000-£6,000 a year on general health maintenance, which I consider well spent. Outrageous? I don’t want to add up what I spend on coffee or restaurants, but I’ll bet it’s more than the money I spend on health.
To my earlier ambition of losing twenty pounds. The most realistic path to this is to keep my protein intake high. I find protein blunts my appetite. Between high protein and training volume, I hope to make some inroads. Now, if only I could crack my ice cream addiction. But life’s for living, they say. I’ve given up a lot of negative stuff in recent years, including alcohol. Ice cream may stay.
Paying Attention To Nutrition
On nutrition, I’ve blogged before about the importance of protein. Two hundred grams a day must be my goal. More recent evidence shows I can go even higher than this, which will benefit me further. Maintaining muscle mass is critical, especially as we age and, in my case, given my training load. Protein and my five grams of creatine daily, with all its benefits, are non-negotiable.
Hydrating on training days before, during, and after the run is essential. I always add electrolyte powder to my drink bottle. Salts and minerals need replacing. We don’t sweat plain water. Once runs pass the 45-minute mark, an energy gel or chew is essential. We all have enough glycogen in our stores to last around 90 minutes, but it’s not wise to run the fuel reserves all the way down before topping the tank up. We will use 60-90 grams of carbohydrates an hour during endurance training and events, and it needs to be provided from somewhere. As a bigger unit, I aim for a 90 grams of carb per hour equation.
I’ve been working with Thomas Robson-Kanu and The Tumeric Co. recently because I’m interested in turmeric’s anti-inflammatory properties. Thomas and his father, Reche, developed a range of turmeric shots to help Thomas recover from knee injuries sustained in his professional football career. It’s a small but essential part of my nutrition regime on the road to the last dance. I find a daily shot helps my osteoarthritis symptoms. On training days, I double up. There is some decent science building behind turmeric, and I’m a believer.
What About Enjoyment?
I’m worn out rereading this. It could lead readers to believe I’m living this somewhat obsessive and joyless life, tilting at the windmill of a geriatric marathon attempt. No one who has ever run a marathon has done it without actual investment in time, effort and pain. I’m up for that. Reflecting on the last couple of years, physical struggle is a positive. We aren’t built to sit around in front of Netflix, being force-fed highly calorific food. We were built to move; if we don’t, there is a mental and physical price to pay. Taxing ourselves physically is good. The endorphins that flow from that effort are good for our mental well-being.
At my age, I am supposed to slow down, take it easy, play golf, and do all that stuff. Not for me. I need intellectual stimulation and need to keep on learning—about myself and about the world I live in. That’s enjoyment—not going through the motions day after day, counting down the calendar pages until the end.
I’m challenging myself to keep my professional skills sharp. Weekly bass guitar lessons have become part of my routine. In the background, I’m studying writing and collecting ideas for a novel. I remain curious, proudly so.
Dump The Comfort Zone
It’s the same with physical challenges. Looking for something new appeals to me. I can go to the gym three or four days a week and be fitter than most men my age. Science tells me that it will improve my quality of life and potentially the length of my life. So why not settle for that? I don’t know. The same drive that led me to leave a small Northern town still burns within—an ambition to see what else I can do in the wider world.
The gym five days a week is in my comfort zone. But something where there’s a higher than fifty per cent chance I will fail taps into something else in me. And it is enjoyable. It speaks to me of being on a journey. The journey has always guided me, even when I had no clue where the road was leading. It’s the same now. The day I don’t want to be on the journey will be an end phase – I’m not there yet, not by a long chalk.
The Last Dance
My Last Dance will not be the stuff of the Netflix series, where the Chicago Bulls, led by the sporting legend Michael Jordan, take a sixth NBA Championship. (If you haven’t seen it, do.)
But while there won’t be an open-top bus parade for me, I will feel immense achievement if I reach the Central Park finish line on November 2.
The odds say that I won’t get it done. Age and injury are already conspiring against me. Hell, my right knee doesn’t even straighten fully. But that’s why challenges exist, right? It wouldn’t be much of a challenge if it were a slam dunk, and I breezed across the finish line.
That’s what’s driving me. Why settle for a quiet life? We are only handed one life, and for far too many of us, it’s a struggle for reasons beyond our control. For others, it is a grey frustration, a dull plod from one end to the other. I’m fortunate that life has given me enough opportunities amongst the challenges.
I intend to respect my good fortune by seeing how much can be squeezed from this one-and-only trip down this road. And the Last Dance in Manhattan is one of my marks of respect for all that life has given me.
Stay tuned. #runmoonyrun [...]
December 5, 2024I wrote a blog post about whether to stick with or quit my training some days ago. I’ve been busy since then, trying to understand what’s going on for me and finding a way forward. After a short mental slump, I realised I needed to embrace the grind.
I hit the gym on Monday and focused mainly on my upper body. I hit my heaviest bench press for several years—certainly the most I have pushed in my sixties. At least I can say my collarbones are no longer a perceived weak point, and the titanium plate and screws in my right collarbone are robust. (I had this odd psychological tick where I imagined the plate giving way!)
On Tuesday, I did a 5-kilometre ruck with my weighted vest. I tackled the hills of Hampstead Heath, and while the one-hour walk didn’t seem intense, the data was interesting. Logging the work on my Garmin HR-Pro Plus strap and 965 watch showed the Training Stress Score higher than my 5k gentle jog the previous week and only slightly below my 5k personal best set in October. Rucking is a sneakily good workout. I will log that information for the future; rucking is now a nice switch-up in my repertoire. I can embrace the grind with less stress on my knees and hips while stacking a decent core and cardio workout.
Wednesday saw me back in the gym, and I benched the same weight again, but for three more reps than Monday. This was a good result, and I was pleased with it. (Friday edit update. I repeated the Wednesday lifts, so that has been a solid week.)
Today, Thursday, I met for an hour with my top-quality physio, Stephen Davies. He examined the knee that’s been bothering me and released my tight hamstring and calf muscles. The bottom line is that there is nothing seriously wrong with my knee. An in-depth discussion of my training was helpful. Stephen’s considered opinion is that I’m training too much and too intensely. I need to have two complete rest days a week. I should run only three times a week. And my lower body strength training needs to be less intense. Simply put, I’m overtraining; that’s the cause of my constant niggles and building fatigue. It’s ok to embrace the grind but not to grind myself to dust.
Stephen has introduced some single-leg work to my routine to bring some focus to my right leg, where I have intermittent knee problems. I do a single-leg press and calf raise, lateral banded strides, and a stiff-leg deadlift to lengthen my hamstrings. It’s less intense than my usual lower body work and instinctively feels like it will help me, but without taxing my central nervous system too much.
If you have read this far, you’re shaking your head and saying, “No shit,” as you muse on my idiocy. Overtraining has always been my weakness. My knowledge that I’m an average at best athlete drives me to try to work harder than the next person, including the person who looks back at me when I stare into the mirror. It’s not ego that drives me this hard. I fear what happens if I don’t work hard enough. I love to embrace the grind, and this makes me overreach.
That’s my update. I need to dial it down a couple of notches to make progress. Stay tuned. [...]
December 1, 2024The Best Laid Plans
‘Stick or quit’ is not my usual conversation with myself. It’s on my mind now, and I’m not sure if it’s my psyche playing with me, introducing the ‘quit’ word to get me going again. Or is it that time? It’s been some year or two. After a challenging 2023 that threw up significant life changes, I decided to throw down a misogi challenge to myself. To run a marathon. Something I’m not built for, something that would tax every atom of my ageing body.
But life got in the way again this year, with a serious cycling accident in April. Being a combination of stubborn and optimistic, I thought I could still run my marathon in November. But unfortunately, a side effect of my head injury was vertigo, which seriously curtailed my training. I started, genuinely intending to train for the marathon, even running while wearing a sling after my collarbone operation. The vertigo couldn’t be overcome. When out running, the road would sharply drop away to my left side as though a gentle jog was morphing into a big dipper ride. It’s not ideal base training.
While the vertigo eventually cleared, weeks of training time vanished. The grown-up thing to do was to postpone my marathon until 2025. My logic was that I had plenty of time to train correctly. It’s still annoyingly complex, however. I struggle to keep up with the volume of training. My knee problem from many weeks ago has now resurfaced. I spend much of my time feeling sore in one part or another, as my five to six days a week in the gym or on the treadmill and road taxes my reserves. Taking 400mg of Ibufrofen before bed on run days doesn’t seem like a healthy long-term practice.
Father Time Is Undefeated
It’s led to a lot of reflection for me. Is this it? Stick or quit time? Since I was 67 in late May, have I reached the point where severe physical decline starts? After a lifetime of cycling, I still grieve for the exercise I loved so much. But after two trips to the ICU, suddenly making a mockery of my 50 accident-free years, it’s not fair of me to put my wife and family and friends through more anxiety.
My inner voice said this wasn’t a problem, and I could get my dopamine and serotonin hits from running as my endurance exercise drug. While my inner voice, egged on by my brain, said this was the perfect solution, the body called a time-out and said, “screw you.”
I’ve read many studies on how exercise is the key to a strong healthspan. No shuffling around for me. I’ll hit the gym and road hard and be physically vital as I enter my seventies. Father Time is undefeated, as the boxing fraternity tends to say. I’m wondering if it’s my turn.
The fitness bros, the scientists, and all the other cognitive bias sources I study say that I can turn the tide. But my body is tending to side with Father Time, and I’m leaning back on the ropes like a heavyweight boxer who has suddenly found his legs have betrayed him.
The Social Element Of Training
Stick or quit? I’ve gone around the alternatives. I may retreat to the gym and stay in shape with weights, stationary bikes, upper body erg machines, and rowing machines. That sounds like a sensible way to stay fit and minimise the battering I’m doling out to my body. I can make a case for it, and in a year, I will be in top form, awash with functional muscle, decent cardio, and flexibility.
This gym-based option also scares the crap out of me. I’ve turned my back on the sport that allowed me to experience nature and an enriching social environment while slamming out 60, 70 and 80-mile cycling adventures in the UK and Europe. But no worries, running gets me outdoors and offers major challenges such as half and full-marathon events. And some of my former cycling friends also like to mix in some running, so the social aspect remains.
Am I Being Unrealistic?
Nagging injuries and permanent soreness are flagging worrying realities for me. Should a 67-year-old, 195cm tall, 110kg lump be putting himself through pounding runs? A wave of gloom engulfs me as the prospect of no running presents itself. Is this it? My sporting opportunities are plucked from me one by one. I get driven indoors to the gym. Then, that option starts to drift away from me. It is a metaphor for a shrinking life, eventually shrinking to a hospital bed and then a final destination. Perhaps it’s not a ‘stick or quit’ decision, more of a gradual decline.
It’s not my style to think this way. In my darkest moments, I have always pushed forward. That’s been the pattern of my life, even from my early days. Recent years have seen me struggle through long periods of mental health challenges, with the last two years offering up 27 fractures, a brain injury, a haemothorax, and a punctured pelvic artery. But in all those cases, it has never occurred to me to stop moving forward. In reflective moments, I have realised that I can’t cope with drawing back from this relentless forward movement. I know that if I stop, that will dismantle my spirit.
So what do I do about it? Do I accept Father Time as the Jake Paul to my Mike Tyson and go and sit on the stool? Do I set aside any thoughts of a misogi, take to the gym, and spare my joints and powers of recovery any more insults?
So, Do I Stick Or Quit?
Stick or quit? I guess I sound like an old man whining or a lion in winter raging against the loss of his powers. Whatever. It’s my reality, and it challenges my core drivers. It’s existential to some extent. My lizard brain tells me this is a threat and must be faced up to or run away from. Father Time is dancing on his toes in the neutral corner while I take a standing eight count from the referee. (How many fingers is he holding up as an aside?)
That being the case, I must press on. I fear an accelerated unravelling of fitness and health if I back down. Perhaps aches and pains are just the price of the game in one’s sixties. I’m going to approach things from several angles and see if there’s a route through this—a path to decent physical fitness and all the mood and mental health benefits it brings.
I’ve got a decent running coach already in Coach Parry, and I have agreed with the team there to back off training until the first week of January 2025 to give me time to recover and, where needed, heal. Then I’m coming back with a lower running load. I aim to run twice a week and do one aerobic session on the Wattbike at the gym. I’ve got a seriously good coaching resource and don’t use it enough. It’s time to change that.
I strength train twice a week, and for runners over the age of 50, this is key. Injury becomes inevitable without dealing with the natural loss of muscle mass older adults face. But I need to adjust here, too. I’m prone to getting myself into some pretty full-on lifting sessions at the gym – for example; I bench-pressed more than I have in this decade of my life only this week. How an allegedly intelligent man thinks he can train for a marathon and set personal bests in the gym is a winning strategy is beyond me. I will do a decent weekly workout with weights and a second session with body weight and resistance bands.
Recovery And Maintenance
Recovery hasn’t been taken seriously enough. I’m training five and sometimes six times a week. Rest days are quite often forced because I’m dog tired, rather than them being planned. Again, the scientific research on the importance of rest stretches from here to Mars. It’s time for me not simply to read this stuff but also act on it. Yes, the facts apply to me too.
One area I have made good progress in is mobility. I’ve followed a simple programme that focuses on hip region mobility, and I’m a lot better for it. I intend to continue with this.
The recovery from both my accidents was massively helped by working with a top-class physiotherapist, Stephen Davies. I intend to have a few sessions with him in December to see if I can get ahead of the game and improve my knee health. I’ve twice torn the meniscus in my right knee in the last three years, and I have moderate osteoarthritis in both knees. I’m convinced – so, thankfully, is my physio – that surgical intervention and steroid injections are not the answer. I will be ok if I can focus on and succeed with better knee health. I don’t have any other obvious injury problems. Just the zillions of aches and pains that being old delivers free of charge.
What’s It To Be?
So what, you say. Some old guy is banging on because his training is going badly. Why doesn’t he go and sit down and get old, like other old guys? Physically, I see what happens to people my age and younger if exercise isn’t a priority. I don’t have to look far beyond my own family to see the risks of doing next to no exercise. That’s a significant consideration in my stick or quit dilemma. The niggling physical injuries are probably a better option than drowning in an increasing number of age-related health problems.
I want to live on my terms for as long as possible. Having read this screed, I know you will think I tend to be a fool. But not as badly as some of my exercise excesses would lead you to think. I will not willingly let all my choices be taken away from me one by one. That way lies a deterioration of mental health to go with the physical decline.
That’s not why I’ve struggled and fought to get this far. Nanakorobi yaoki has been my principle. And that will continue for as long as possible. I have no wish to live forever. I will take the years allotted to me by God, fate, chance or genetics. It’s the quality of the years gifted to me that I’m concerned about.
Will I run the New York Marathon next year? It’s going to be tough. I have physical challenges now, and by November next year, I’ll be 68. But without a big challenge, I can see even more challenges ahead of me. But sometimes, executing the plan is the prize. The benefits of continuing to train may be more valuable than the endorphin-laden achievement of crossing the finish line. Watch this space. [...]
October 27, 2024What Do You Do?
Transitions from full-time work. I finished my last full-time work role a year ago. It was time. I have worked since I was 16 years old, and my last day at work was fifty years and one month after my first day. My work life was varied: I was a bank clerk, a postman, and working in a meat packing plant. Then, working for large corporations running factories. A mid-career break to gain an MBA and then straight back into corporate life in senior strategy roles. My final phase was the world of startups and small growth companies.
There was a particular weirdness to it all as well. I succeeded in many respects and told myself I was living my best life. Even three years ago, I would boldly say that I would work until the day I dropped. Yet I wasn’t enjoying work. I’ve written elsewhere about my struggles with anxiety and depression throughout my youth and adult life. I found one of my journals recently in my home office, and rereading it was, in some ways, shocking. I hadn’t enjoyed at least the last four years of my career.
The truth, I guess, is that the long hours and high pressure of a senior executive role created enough white noise in my mind to stop me from addressing what was troubling me. If I was busy, then I didn’t have to look in the mirror too hard. Through the years, I have looked hard at some of the self-sabotage mechanisms I sneakily deployed and had a crack at dealing with some of them.
Work has defined me to a great extent and I was always able to answer the emotionally-stunted conversation-starting question, “What do you do?” No longer.
Removing Coping Mechanisms
Drinking too much was one of my avoidance strategies. While in the warm glow of the first few drinks, my mind didn’t have to deal with the corrosive and non-stop anxiety that plagued me. The deadening effect was my escape from … from me. The hangovers and post-session self-loathing were, for many years, the fair price of the game. But more than six years ago, I stopped drinking and have never missed it.
With that major step taken, I was able to double down on seeking the proper mental health support. I’ve been on anti-depressants since 2018 (although there have been previous periods, too.) I’ve worked with psychotherapists and psychiatrists throughout that period, too. Do I feel better? Yes, I do, but I I must pay attention to it daily. I don’t believe I will ever escape the issues that trouble me. I see it as a challenge: there’s a better life if I keep working at it.
The transitions from full-time work over the last year hasn’t been as hard as I thought it might be. As I said, I hadn’t been enjoying it. I wasn’t the best to work with at times, which troubled me. My day-to-day way of being was unpleasant, with dark periods and turbulence being the norm. It’s a lonely place, too. Collectively, we humans are not well-equipped to deal with one of our tribe suffering mentally. Words such as “I’m here for you 24/7” and “You can talk to me at any time” must be considered hollow.
Dealing with a mental health issue isn’t the most straightforward matter, and at times, I wasn’t fully conscious. But the human spirit is also strong.
Over an extended period, I have tried to make my way, sometimes stumbling, to a place where I can come to terms with myself. One by one, large parts of my life and some harmful coping mechanisms have been removed. And still, the search for me continues. The non-negotiable is the need to make concrete changes; staying in one spot and hoping for salvation is not a recipe for improvement.
My Brave New World
Now I had dropped my anxiety-fuelled commitment to work forever, and it was time to look at life in a very different way. Gone were the 70-hour weeks and unrelenting pressure. I wasn’t waking up, mind and pulse racing, at 3 am. I wasn’t out of bed and overcaffeinated by 5:30 am. That’s good. Right?
The flip side of transitions from full-time work appeared. All of a sudden, the days stretched before me. As always, I needed a plan. Some of my moves were obvious. I wanted to pay forward some of my long experience in business and felt that I could help small growth businesses and their CEOs. In addition to my business experience, I qualified at a high level as an executive coach 15 years ago. I set myself the goal of finding roles with small growth businesses in my first year, and that’s been achieved.
And what else? A challenge for me is how to use my time meaningfully. I filled my days with stressful activities for many conscious and unconscious reasons. The stuff lower down Maslow’s Hierarchy was dealt with; my work rate ticked off security and survival. A lot was thrown into climbing the ladder, of kidding myself that I was getting to Maslow’s self-actualisation.
I would guess that it was more complex than that, and part of me was running away and not running to. With that stripped away, there are bigger questions for me. Who am I? And what the heck do I do with myself? Will I ever understand myself, let alone find the nirvana of self-actualisation?
Real Changes
My physiology has changed, which sounds like an odd thing to say. For many years, I have tracked my health closely, including taking blood tests. My cortisol level used to be dangerously high, and it’s now dropped into the lower part of the normal range. It’s a clear indicator that my stress has plummeted.
The other area of change is sleep. Even as a child, I had severe sleep issues and remember being treated for insomnia by the local doctor. He told me very seriously that if I took the whole barbiturate tablet, I would go to sleep forever. Sleep was always an issue throughout my early adulthood and growing up. But now I’m sleeping seven hours a night, and very often eight hours. If that doesn’t sound a lot, I can tell you that for me, it’s the somnolent version of Bob Beamon’s long jump.
Despite my recent bad luck with cycling injuries, I’m in good physical condition. The virtuous interplay of a settled mind, regular exercise, and the ability to recover while sleeping is a blessing. Transitions from full-time work include physiological changes, and I have enjoyed the positive changes.
My mental acuity doesn’t appear to be an issue, as I can tell by the thorough reading I put into any article on dementia and my crystal-clear clear recall of said articles.
This is all good news. But looking after myself and supporting a couple of small growth companies doesn’t take me 70 hours, that is for sure. That’s a good thing, right? Except in my case, this meant the mirror is thrust in front of me more often.
Searching For A New Me
A year into the major life change, it’s become apparent that if I’m not careful, I will simply live a diluted version of my old life. Taking on more advisory work, because it’s a comfort zone. And letting this patchwork of roles dominate my diary, giving me the perfect excuse to have no quality time to explore me, new opportunities, and the possibility that there’s a different way to live.
It’s taken a year for me to understand this. I read that many people at the end of their working lives are struck with worries about being irrelevant, and this is something that’s bothered me. It’s one of the reasons why I have continued to work. If I don’t work, who am I, and who will remember me? The reality is that once you have walked out of work for the last time, any memory of you disappears like a footprint in the wet sand. I’ve come to terms with the subject of relevance.
The case is made in my head that living a diluted version of my former professional self blocks me from getting on and exploring the rest of my life. Transitions from full-time work must be thoroughly examined; it’s an easy trap to end up with a diluted, shrunken version of a former being.
Now What?
I’m a fortunate man. I’m healthy and have a loving wife and some great friends and I don’t have any financial concerns. I understand I’m in a position that many would envy. My mental health has improved, although it needs daily work, in the same way my physical health needs daily work. I’m well-set in many respects to address the transitions from full-time work.
Meaning in life is a nebulous concept. I thought my meaning in life was clear, but I haven’t tackled the subject at all. I’ve thrown up false idols and manufactured skewed arguments for paths I have taken. The path is cleared for me to explore who I am. Exciting and scary in equal measure.
It’s a journey, and perhaps one with no end. Yet, realising that I’m on a journey has immeasurably helped me. As has the realisation that the behaviours and norms built up over decades can be challenged. We all have the ability to enact real change in our lives, but without accepting that truth, many of us never enter into the change zone. I’ve entered it. Now what? [...]
September 11, 2024Keep It Simple And Focus On Four Areas
Staying in shape at 50 and beyond. I’m a 67-year-old weekend warrior athlete who spends time in the gym and working on my cardio through running. I’m in the top 15% of my age group in crucial metrics such as VO2 and heart rate variability. I was never a great athlete as a young man. But I know that consistently showing up and doing the work makes a big difference, hence my current condition.
Before you yawn and switch off, thinking, ‘Why do I need to know what this old guy does?’. Keep in mind that we all start to face the same fitness challenges from 40 years old and onwards. Stick with me for the next few minutes, and I’ll spotlight the key areas which make me a resilient outperformer. Staying in shape is possible at all ages. And it’s never too late to start.
Muscle Mass Is Key
I go to the gym three times a week for strength training, which is core to my conditioning. Without maintaining muscle mass, I’m more prone to injury while running. My overall body composition and metabolic rate suffer, too.
Strength training and muscle mass are vital considerations for all from the age of 35 onwards. Men start to lose 3–5% of their muscle per decade and will lose 30% of their total muscle in their lifetime. This muscle loss has significant effects on mortality and quality of life. The study linked here shows a significant difference in mortality in older people in the upper and lower quartiles of measured muscle mass.
Strength training can help combat obesity and improve bone density. Interestingly, solid evidence indicates that regular strength training can improve mental health; see this metastudy data.
The good news is that you can build muscle in your 70s and 80s. It’s never too late to start, and saying, “I’ve never lifted weights,” is a poor excuse to stay in the armchair. You will be more mobile, active, resilient, and less prone to debilitating falls and fractures. And your mental health will benefit.
Don’t Be Tentative
Don’t fall into the trap of being tentative, either. Take the obvious steps to prevent injury—for example, a warmup and observing good form during lifting. But feel free to train hard—a BMJ study here shows that high-intensity training is more productive for older athletes than moderate-intensity exercise.
I’m an experienced lifter. I focus on the big compound movements of deadlift, bench press, and heavy dumbbell rows. Squat features in my work, but I focus more on good form than lifting heavy. I don’t play around with single muscle group exercises. I go short, sharp, and intense.
We all need to pay attention to muscle mass from our 30s onwards. And if you haven’t lifted regularly, it’s never too late to start. Key to staying in shape at 50 is hitting the gym. Or when there is no gym, finding a way to do the work.
Throw Some Cardio In
I spent many years and tens of thousands of miles cycling. In my mid-60s, my VO2 was consistently in the top 10–15% for my age group. A couple of accidents stopped me cycling. I now lace up my running shoes, and that’s how I work my cardio now. You can cycle, run, row, step — whatever works for you. But doing at least two hours of cardio every week is essential.
VO2 significantly predicts a longer period of good health in your lifespan. I’m not going to tell you that lifting, running, or some esoteric supplement will make you live longer. I will continue to direct your attention to practices that underpin a better quality of life. This metastudy has many nested studies, and you can explore these. The summary is that a good VO2 will help you live a healthier life.
Even at an elite level, a wealth of evidence illustrates that you do not have to go all out in your cardio training. Indeed, this can be counterproductive as it will challenge your immune system and invite injury.
Use The 80/20 Rule
I train 80% to 85% of my time in zone two and spend some time each week pushing harder with a series of sprints or a good hillclimb. There is a wealth of information available on the 80/20 method. I would point out that Tour de France champion Tadej Pogacar uses this method. And this YouTube video discusses the legendary marathon runner Eliud Kipchoge’s use.
Staying in shape at 50 needs a decent cardio element built into the routine. And some of the work needs to focus on moving VO2 in the right direction.
Keep Your Nutrition Simple
I worked at an elite level in the sports nutrition industry for a major part of my career. As a result, I have seen most of the leading and bleeding-edge technologies. However, I have also heard a lot of BS about nutrition and diet.
Let me be clear. There is no magic supplement that will transform your performance. Don’t buy into the hype or get taken in by overclaims about various products or technologies. For example, there has been massive noise in cycling regarding ketone esters. Use has become widespread in the professional ranks, but a healthy dose of FOMO underpins that. However, no one can produce a clear and consistent clinical trial data bank showing any performance advantage.
I have the same approach to a broader diet. What do the keto diet, paleo diet, intermittent fasting, low-carb diet, and plant-based diets have in common? They are all forms of calorie restriction, and in many of the examples given, they are tough to sustain.
For performance, be well hydrated and ensure sufficient glycogen from eating carbohydrates in your muscles when you start your workout. For long sessions of over one hour — for example, a long ride — ensure you ingest another 90 grams of carb per hour and keep your supplies topped up. I hate seeing someone tackling a long ride while carrying one banana in their back pocket. One banana provides enough carbs for 20 minutes for a decent-sized male athlete.
Double Down On Protein
My biggest breakthrough in recent years has been increasing my protein intake to 2 grams per kilogram of body weight, which is 200 grams of protein per day in my case. I used to find this difficult, but I worked towards a regime that delivers it consistently. This has made a real difference to my body composition and resilience; my injury frequency and immunity-related issues, such as colds and infections, are sharply down.
I ensure I have good-quality protein with every meal and use protein shakes and high-protein yoghurts to achieve my daily goal. On an intense training day, I will take protein within 20 minutes of completing my workout. Before bedtime, I will also take a high-quality protein shake — either a kefir-based protein yoghurt or casein-based shake to maximise overnight muscle repair.
In line with my suggestion that you lift weights consistently from 40 onwards, I would suggest the same approach to protein intake. Our bodies are less efficient at absorbing protein as we age, yet this study shows that extra protein can supercharge muscle mass increases as we get older. Stating in shape at 50 means ingesting more protein, it’s a simple and effective way to help achieve your goals.
The harder and more complex we make nutrition, the more challenging it is to see consistent results. As said, I’ve seen most things in this field and can tell you the most effective approach is to keep it simple. Be well hydrated and ensure you have enough glycogen to fuel your session. Consume 2 grams of protein per kilogram of body weight daily. Eat a good, balanced diet and dump the ultra-processed foods. And stop searching for the magic supplement because it’s not out there.
Most Of All, Be Consistent
Consistency is king. I’ve learned that over the years. When I was younger, I fell into the trap of having enthusiastic bursts of exercise and then losing faith due to injury or illness. Truth be told, this has most often been due to being overenthusiastic.
My second excuse has been that life is too busy. Again, if you want to engineer your body to serve you well for your whole life, you can always find a way to fit the work in. When travelling on business, if the hotel has no gym, you can still run outside and do bodyweight strength exercises in your hotel room.
Work hard at fitting the routine into your life. It gets easier once you see the real-world benefits flow into your health. Positive habits reinforce more positive habits. I’m more disciplined now than I was at 50 because I see and feel the benefits of showing up and doing the work.
Four Focus Areas Will Win Out For You
As I said at the start, I’m a 67-year-old athlete. I was not a good athlete as a youth, but now I’m in the top quartile in my age group simply because I show up and get the work done. And I’m more robust, too, as proven by my coming back from two serious cycling accidents; my medical team in both instances was clear that this was due to my muscle mass and bone health.
The practices I observe will pay dividends when you are 40 or 75. So do not let my age be the weak justification for you discarding my lived experience and advice. Following a similar disciplined plan will pay you big dividends of 50.
My overall health regime is simple: three strength workouts a week, a decent couple of hours of cardio work each week, simple nutrition, ensuring my protein intake is consistently at my target, and most of all, turning up. Just show up and do the work; you will see multiple benefits, regardless of age. Staying in shape at 50 is achievable if you keep these simple elements in mind and work them into your lifestyle. [...]
