I feel like this is a very important post. I'm really tired of hearing people say things like "60 is the new 40" (usually spoken by a 40-year-old). Unless we suddenly become immortal, our bodies have finite limits. Things wear out. We should acknowledge and respect that.
My new limit is heels. I love beautiful shoes and used to wear heels every day. One day I woke up and my feet refused. As I prepare for a formal wedding as the MOB, I have [grudgingly] come to terms with wearing a very low heel for the ceremony, and switching to flats immediately after. Do I hate it? Yes. Have I accepted it? Not yet. Will I? Eventually.
Love this post and I have had very similar experiences. Over 50 I've really learned the value of rest. I no longer sleep poorly and then try to "fix" feeling crappy the next day by having a hard run while exhausted. If I need more sleep or a nap, I take what I can with no guilt. I went to a wonderful workshop a few weeks ago and ended up exhausted some days from heat and humidity in the South, and I took afternoon rests when I needed them. If I missed a reading to have a glass of wine and a snack in my room, or a silent walk in a beautiful natural area, then so be it (and those were good choices for me). Also - comfortable shoes. They may not be beautiful but I will not suffer with any part of myself aching any longer.
I have also come to the “I don’t do that anymore” when it comes to crow pose In yoga. My bonier shins and less muscular upper arms mean it just hurts! And I need a lot more padding under my Irish bum to do boat pose. And I can try or skip these poses without any sense of failure. I also said, without thinking, “It’s not my job to be hot anymore!” That came out of nowhere with wonderful relief. Then my
50-something friend said, “I never thought that was my job.”
what you described not being able to do in your 50s is exactly what i discovered i had no tolerance for at 22! 😂 things i used to do but won't anymore: ask my friends to help me move (hiring movers isn't cheap, but it's cheaper than 6 months of physical therapy for a bad back!), hiit workouts (yea, that "edge" = good boundaries), bend over backwards to make a good impression on folks who don't deserve it, suffer fools...
In my mid 50s I started to experience arthritic twinges, as well as lower energy levels. The added years brought with them a lot of unwanted pounds, to the point that I was trending toward morbid obesity. On reaching retirement age, and closing our business, I started doing research, first just to get my weight under control. This led to a 5 year journey, still taking place, into learning what caused the problem. Now at 74 I am far healthier than I was at 24, free of prescriptions, and down 60 pounds from my all-time high. My mind is clearer, I am pain and prescription free, and feeling the best I've ever felt. My wife has experienced the same metamorphosis, while our fellow seniors in the neighborhood continue to grapple with, and frequently die from, the various maladies that we've been taught to expect from getting older. I've become somewhat of an evangelist for nutrition, and my wife, bless her, frequently has to pull me away as I launch into a lecture. So I'll leave it at that, only quoting Dr. Robert Lustig: It's not your food that's the problem, it's what's been done to your food.
I just had a conversation about this today. I don't pick my appearance apart as much any more. Not to say I don't care about how I look, or taking care of myself, I very much still do. But I actually love my middle aged, imperfect body more than I hated my younger more hard worked for one. I see how cruel I was to myself, setting insane standards and never being satisfied. Then I saw my body as an object, currency, or a measure of my attractiveness. That shit doesn't work and isn't of interest to me anymore. Now I see my body as a marvel - walking, digesting, swimming, feeling. I look in the mirror and even with the soft spots and the freckles, the gravity laden boobs, I like what I see. I wish I gave up hating it a lot sooner
I just turned seventy and had to acknowledge that due to an arthritic left knee, I can’t ride my old Raleigh anymore. Solution: I got an electric bike. Though one or two friends called it cheating to get a mechanical boost, I listen to my pain and act accordingly. With a boost I can go for almost forty miles and enjoy myself greatly. Nothing like riding to the Rockaways on a summer day…for me the key is not being foolhardy in denying bodily changes but also not succumbing to self pity if there are possible solutions or aides.
A good philosophy…. It’s been hard to accept slowing down little by little, losing my drive to work out like a maniac, desperate to keep pounds off as I age.. Self-acceptance and being cognizant that my choice of attitude can still be mine to make… thanks for sharing.
I don't stay up past midnight anymore (used to routinely stay up until 2:00, for decades, reading, writing, or watching TV). A few years ago (I'm 62 now), I began to notice how much better I felt mentally and physically when I got more sleep.
I don't wear any kind of shoes now that aren't made specifically for excellent support for weak ankles and problem feet (plantar fasciitis, herl spurs, weak, frequency broken bones from osteopenia). I once had 107 pairs of shoes, heels, flats, flip flops, dressy boots, you name it. Now I have 20 pairs, all bought in last two years since I decided to get serious. (Brands are mostly Vionic, Orthofeet, Therafit, Merrell, if anyone needs to find similar). And I don't walk barefoot ANYWHERE any more, no matter how short the trip.
I don't avoid going to physical therapy, any time, every time it's warranted.
All that may make you think I'm in bad shape, but actually I'm in far better shape than I was three years ago when I stopped (began) doing those things. Lost 70 lbs. Walk 4-5 miles 5 times a week. Lowered cholesterol. Play tennis weekly.
I don't boogie board anymore. I did a face plant in my 51rst year and it took a few years to get over the pain/disk damage, etc. I could do it again but the thought of not being able to write, of needing my mate to dress me, or not even being able to sit at my desk keeps me from it. I gave away my board last year after years of never using it. Now I'm 66 and I envy my friends who still do it but I love to drift around in the water.
Dating. The final frontier of "no – I don't do that anymore." :) Newly back in the pool, and I've discovered that there are positions, emotional styles, locations, power dynamics, societal sexual "rules" that I finally realized I just don't do anymore. The key was figuring that out and learning how to articulate it to myself and others... a work in progress. But I feel invigorated, empowered!
As a 54 year old equestrian who has had a few hospital trips already, I focus far more on my partnership with my horses than I used to. I spend a lot more time on the ground with them than in the saddle, forming bonds and just hanging out. I still ride, but I don't feel the need to be daring anymore. And I pay lots of attention to my horse's state of mind rather than trying to push him to do things when he's distracted or anxious. But I have been pleasantly surprised at how moving to the country and owning horses has increased my fitness significantly. I can do physical labor that would have been unthinkable for me 10 years ago. I gave up drinking alcohol over 5 years ago, which has been enormously beneficial for my physical and mental well-being.
My self-awareness and self-care have become priorities. The conversation between my mind and body is an ongoing struggle for reality. My mind says I’m 30, but my body says the reality is I’m 60. I am constantly aware of the men my age who are stooped over and toddling along in their frumpiness that screams, “I’ve let go.” I am constantly looking for the balance between age appropriate clothes and behavior that will keep me appearing younger than I am while not being ridiculous, desperate, or even garish. I work a lot harder to maintain my mobility and agility, taking up yoga (love it), which I used to think was only for young people. I also find that I can’t allow my mind to be slack, so I read a lot more and have recently passed my engineering certification to enhance my career. Overall, as my age unapologetically progresses, I find everything is a challenge and I can no longer take for granted a life that is so precious, delicate, and relatively brief.
I related to your post, Sari, on so many levels. Last Tuesday, the same scorchingly hot day you reference in your post, I helped move my daughter into her 4th floor NYC apt. After two treks up winding narrow steps, I said, "I'm done" and let my daughter, husband and a friend continue on.
(And I just discovered ferry rides for $2.75-- a true reward. We took the one from Brooklyn to midtown!)
For many years I've heard my now 98-year-old father say "I don't do that anymore" referring to his long runs and biking his age each birthday. That ended at age 90 when he started counting kilometers. At 96 he quit biking outdoors. At 62, driving from NYC to Chicago the other day, I used the term for the first time when after 9 hours on the road and many more to go, and the lights of uncoming cars distorting my vision, I said to my husband, "I can't do this anymore" -- driving in the dark on the highway, especially after so many hours. I gave the wheel to him. He's a week away from sixty.
I’m 32, and I used to have an iron stomach. Could eat anything in any quantity without too many negative repercussions. I eat much healthier now than I did even 10 years ago but have noticed that painful bloating is a much more frequent occurrence when I overdo on the onion- or bean-based dishes. That was a sobering “oh god” moment for me. Looking into what high-FODMAP foods I might need to be careful about in the future.
Drinking. I was never a big drinker, but I was a *good* drinker—I liked nice wine and really enjoyed the option of a little wind-down at the end of my day. But I don't metabolize alcohol like I did in my 40s, and it disagrees with my stomach, and god forbid I go out and have a couple of beers and then have to make that hourlong subway trip home on a sloshy bladder.
My husband doesn't drink, so it's not a big lifestyle change. And I still like my edibles, although that's an entirely different kind of timing and takes more planning than that evening glass of wine. I'll have a drink if I go out to dinner or at the odd event, but I give the occasional indulgence much more conscious thought, and always, always stop at two. (Glasses, not a.m.)
I feel like this is a very important post. I'm really tired of hearing people say things like "60 is the new 40" (usually spoken by a 40-year-old). Unless we suddenly become immortal, our bodies have finite limits. Things wear out. We should acknowledge and respect that.
My new limit is heels. I love beautiful shoes and used to wear heels every day. One day I woke up and my feet refused. As I prepare for a formal wedding as the MOB, I have [grudgingly] come to terms with wearing a very low heel for the ceremony, and switching to flats immediately after. Do I hate it? Yes. Have I accepted it? Not yet. Will I? Eventually.
Love this post and I have had very similar experiences. Over 50 I've really learned the value of rest. I no longer sleep poorly and then try to "fix" feeling crappy the next day by having a hard run while exhausted. If I need more sleep or a nap, I take what I can with no guilt. I went to a wonderful workshop a few weeks ago and ended up exhausted some days from heat and humidity in the South, and I took afternoon rests when I needed them. If I missed a reading to have a glass of wine and a snack in my room, or a silent walk in a beautiful natural area, then so be it (and those were good choices for me). Also - comfortable shoes. They may not be beautiful but I will not suffer with any part of myself aching any longer.
I have also come to the “I don’t do that anymore” when it comes to crow pose In yoga. My bonier shins and less muscular upper arms mean it just hurts! And I need a lot more padding under my Irish bum to do boat pose. And I can try or skip these poses without any sense of failure. I also said, without thinking, “It’s not my job to be hot anymore!” That came out of nowhere with wonderful relief. Then my
50-something friend said, “I never thought that was my job.”
what you described not being able to do in your 50s is exactly what i discovered i had no tolerance for at 22! 😂 things i used to do but won't anymore: ask my friends to help me move (hiring movers isn't cheap, but it's cheaper than 6 months of physical therapy for a bad back!), hiit workouts (yea, that "edge" = good boundaries), bend over backwards to make a good impression on folks who don't deserve it, suffer fools...
In my mid 50s I started to experience arthritic twinges, as well as lower energy levels. The added years brought with them a lot of unwanted pounds, to the point that I was trending toward morbid obesity. On reaching retirement age, and closing our business, I started doing research, first just to get my weight under control. This led to a 5 year journey, still taking place, into learning what caused the problem. Now at 74 I am far healthier than I was at 24, free of prescriptions, and down 60 pounds from my all-time high. My mind is clearer, I am pain and prescription free, and feeling the best I've ever felt. My wife has experienced the same metamorphosis, while our fellow seniors in the neighborhood continue to grapple with, and frequently die from, the various maladies that we've been taught to expect from getting older. I've become somewhat of an evangelist for nutrition, and my wife, bless her, frequently has to pull me away as I launch into a lecture. So I'll leave it at that, only quoting Dr. Robert Lustig: It's not your food that's the problem, it's what's been done to your food.
I just had a conversation about this today. I don't pick my appearance apart as much any more. Not to say I don't care about how I look, or taking care of myself, I very much still do. But I actually love my middle aged, imperfect body more than I hated my younger more hard worked for one. I see how cruel I was to myself, setting insane standards and never being satisfied. Then I saw my body as an object, currency, or a measure of my attractiveness. That shit doesn't work and isn't of interest to me anymore. Now I see my body as a marvel - walking, digesting, swimming, feeling. I look in the mirror and even with the soft spots and the freckles, the gravity laden boobs, I like what I see. I wish I gave up hating it a lot sooner
I just turned seventy and had to acknowledge that due to an arthritic left knee, I can’t ride my old Raleigh anymore. Solution: I got an electric bike. Though one or two friends called it cheating to get a mechanical boost, I listen to my pain and act accordingly. With a boost I can go for almost forty miles and enjoy myself greatly. Nothing like riding to the Rockaways on a summer day…for me the key is not being foolhardy in denying bodily changes but also not succumbing to self pity if there are possible solutions or aides.
A good philosophy…. It’s been hard to accept slowing down little by little, losing my drive to work out like a maniac, desperate to keep pounds off as I age.. Self-acceptance and being cognizant that my choice of attitude can still be mine to make… thanks for sharing.
I don't stay up past midnight anymore (used to routinely stay up until 2:00, for decades, reading, writing, or watching TV). A few years ago (I'm 62 now), I began to notice how much better I felt mentally and physically when I got more sleep.
I don't wear any kind of shoes now that aren't made specifically for excellent support for weak ankles and problem feet (plantar fasciitis, herl spurs, weak, frequency broken bones from osteopenia). I once had 107 pairs of shoes, heels, flats, flip flops, dressy boots, you name it. Now I have 20 pairs, all bought in last two years since I decided to get serious. (Brands are mostly Vionic, Orthofeet, Therafit, Merrell, if anyone needs to find similar). And I don't walk barefoot ANYWHERE any more, no matter how short the trip.
I don't avoid going to physical therapy, any time, every time it's warranted.
All that may make you think I'm in bad shape, but actually I'm in far better shape than I was three years ago when I stopped (began) doing those things. Lost 70 lbs. Walk 4-5 miles 5 times a week. Lowered cholesterol. Play tennis weekly.
Thanks for the post and thoughtful comments!
I don't boogie board anymore. I did a face plant in my 51rst year and it took a few years to get over the pain/disk damage, etc. I could do it again but the thought of not being able to write, of needing my mate to dress me, or not even being able to sit at my desk keeps me from it. I gave away my board last year after years of never using it. Now I'm 66 and I envy my friends who still do it but I love to drift around in the water.
Dating. The final frontier of "no – I don't do that anymore." :) Newly back in the pool, and I've discovered that there are positions, emotional styles, locations, power dynamics, societal sexual "rules" that I finally realized I just don't do anymore. The key was figuring that out and learning how to articulate it to myself and others... a work in progress. But I feel invigorated, empowered!
As a 54 year old equestrian who has had a few hospital trips already, I focus far more on my partnership with my horses than I used to. I spend a lot more time on the ground with them than in the saddle, forming bonds and just hanging out. I still ride, but I don't feel the need to be daring anymore. And I pay lots of attention to my horse's state of mind rather than trying to push him to do things when he's distracted or anxious. But I have been pleasantly surprised at how moving to the country and owning horses has increased my fitness significantly. I can do physical labor that would have been unthinkable for me 10 years ago. I gave up drinking alcohol over 5 years ago, which has been enormously beneficial for my physical and mental well-being.
My self-awareness and self-care have become priorities. The conversation between my mind and body is an ongoing struggle for reality. My mind says I’m 30, but my body says the reality is I’m 60. I am constantly aware of the men my age who are stooped over and toddling along in their frumpiness that screams, “I’ve let go.” I am constantly looking for the balance between age appropriate clothes and behavior that will keep me appearing younger than I am while not being ridiculous, desperate, or even garish. I work a lot harder to maintain my mobility and agility, taking up yoga (love it), which I used to think was only for young people. I also find that I can’t allow my mind to be slack, so I read a lot more and have recently passed my engineering certification to enhance my career. Overall, as my age unapologetically progresses, I find everything is a challenge and I can no longer take for granted a life that is so precious, delicate, and relatively brief.
I related to your post, Sari, on so many levels. Last Tuesday, the same scorchingly hot day you reference in your post, I helped move my daughter into her 4th floor NYC apt. After two treks up winding narrow steps, I said, "I'm done" and let my daughter, husband and a friend continue on.
(And I just discovered ferry rides for $2.75-- a true reward. We took the one from Brooklyn to midtown!)
For many years I've heard my now 98-year-old father say "I don't do that anymore" referring to his long runs and biking his age each birthday. That ended at age 90 when he started counting kilometers. At 96 he quit biking outdoors. At 62, driving from NYC to Chicago the other day, I used the term for the first time when after 9 hours on the road and many more to go, and the lights of uncoming cars distorting my vision, I said to my husband, "I can't do this anymore" -- driving in the dark on the highway, especially after so many hours. I gave the wheel to him. He's a week away from sixty.
I’m 32, and I used to have an iron stomach. Could eat anything in any quantity without too many negative repercussions. I eat much healthier now than I did even 10 years ago but have noticed that painful bloating is a much more frequent occurrence when I overdo on the onion- or bean-based dishes. That was a sobering “oh god” moment for me. Looking into what high-FODMAP foods I might need to be careful about in the future.
Drinking. I was never a big drinker, but I was a *good* drinker—I liked nice wine and really enjoyed the option of a little wind-down at the end of my day. But I don't metabolize alcohol like I did in my 40s, and it disagrees with my stomach, and god forbid I go out and have a couple of beers and then have to make that hourlong subway trip home on a sloshy bladder.
My husband doesn't drink, so it's not a big lifestyle change. And I still like my edibles, although that's an entirely different kind of timing and takes more planning than that evening glass of wine. I'll have a drink if I go out to dinner or at the odd event, but I give the occasional indulgence much more conscious thought, and always, always stop at two. (Glasses, not a.m.)