When I was 30 I had some very firm ideas about what I wanted to accomplish as an athlete. I had target times I was shooting for, ideal racing distances, and a humane training regimen that left adequate space for family and work commitments.
By 36 the bulk of my athletic curiosity was satisfied. I had a fairly strong sense of what my body was capable of in light of the sacrifices I was willing to make or not make. I had accumulated sufficient medals, trophies and PRs to enjoy a sense of accomplishment that made stepping out of the heavy running scene feel like a natural step.
In my 40’s I aimed to “look the part without paying the full price” which is another way of saying, I maintained a baseline level of fitness without committing myself to any specific performance outcomes. The odd road races or other sporting events I entered were occasions to have fun and enjoy the scenery. Friends and acquaintances still asked about my running intentions during marathon season as I gently reminded them that I was fully out of that game.
Now, at 50, I have set my sights a little differently. Honestly, I am no longer interested in running a new marathon PR or seeing how I match up with masters in the 400m. Rather, I’m thinking longer term. What do I want to still be able to do at 65, 70, 75? And not just be able to do but enjoy doing and feel good doing?
Here’s my initial list:
- Walk briskly for up to 2 hours on trails or hilly terrain.
- Speedskate on ice for 1-2hrs.
- Comfortably do 6-8 cycles of sun salutes and up to 1 hr of gentle yoga
- bend at the waist and touch my toes.
- Cycle on gently hilly terrain for 1-2 hrs.
- Do some push ups
- Do a wall walk and/or handstand against the wall
- skip rope
- skip, gallop, and grapevine
- swim for 20-30 minutes
I say this now because these are movement capabilities I almost take for granted. While I have my little aches and pains here and there, I enjoy the benefit of tremendous health and well being. Given that context, aging doesn’t seem like such a big deal. On the other hand, I recognize how suddenly matters can shift: through injury, prolonged illness or significant life changes. When I look at my list, I see a need to remain ambitious and accepting; optimistic and also forgiving.
Being fast, faster or fastest feels out of place. Rather, the desire to be fluid, graceful, balanced, and at peace rushes to the foreground and sets the tone for whatever follows. This is how a new baseline fitness idea evolves. No longer mired in besting what was, my new baseline aims to bolster and extend what is. I don’t know if I intended to be a lifelong runner when I was racing in my 30’s. I think I’ve decided I won’t be. I think I’ll be a lifelong mover, shaker, and dancer instead. Sounds like more fun and less hassle. Which, at this age, also seems to make a lot more sense.
*I entered the title after writing the post (a pattern of composition, I dare say). Fitness and Aging seemed odd. Fitness and Getting Older, stranger still. 50 still feels too young to be writing about aging or getting older in most contexts, although we are all doing it at every age. So I opted for that wonderful middle age euphemism: “mature” to describe all things past the age of 50. If you have a better title idea, please let me know.
5 thoughts on “Shifting the Baseline: Thoughts on Mature Fitness”
Love this. I too am refocusing my fitness goals too and want to make sure that I am still happily moving for as long as I possibly can!
Thanks for stopping by! Moving happily is absolutely key and I need all the reminders I can get.
Sherri, this post kept coming back to me after I read it. While I’m not at your level in terms of physical fitness and competition, I am around your age and I think often about how I want to be active into my 60’s, 70’s and 80’s. I have a great model in my parents, which helps. Your post also reminded me of an interview I heard on CBC (our public radio in Canada) with Dick Van Dyke. At 92 he spoke about the importance of continuing to keep moving, and especially to always go down the stairs frontwards and never sideways! Once you start sideways, you can never go back.
Thanks for your thoughts, Sue. The older I get, the more friends and family I know in the upper ranges of the age spectrum and where I can, I try to learn from their example. As we like to say in my department: Motion is lotion.