I’ve been thinking a lot lately about what I’m actually trying to preserve as I get older.
Not how much I can lift. Not how far I can run. Not whether I can do what somebody else my age can do.
The question I keep coming back to is much simpler:
What do I want my body to keep allowing me to say yes to?
That’s become a much more important question to me than almost anything we normally measure in fitness.
At 72, I still want muscle. I want strength. I want good balance and mobility. I want all of it. But none of those things is really the goal.
My life is the goal.
I Wanted My Life Back
In 2007, my body was a mess. Both feet hurt. My right knee was bad. My lower back was constantly giving me trouble. My shoulder wasn’t working properly. My hip was joining the party.
Apparently nobody told my body it was supposed to break down one part at a time.
I was also 98 pounds heavier than I am today. At 53, I wasn’t thinking about athletic performance.
I wanted my life back.
That started Peggy and me down a…
