Waking Up in the Morning When You’re My Age
I asked JM, my PT/Fitness Coach/Pilates Trainer: Do you think there is anyone in their 70s that doesn’t wake up feeling tight and stiff?”
His answer surprised me. He said he didn’t think anyone over 50 wakes up without the aches and pains of aging. And anyone over 50 who says they don’t is lying.
As a US Navy officer who had a tour of duty in Iraq and another one in Afghanistan, JM has a rather stoical view of pain. Plus, he’s very fit and flexible. But he shared something with me that gave me an instant understanding of where he himself is in the hierarchy of morning joint stiffness. He said, “If I drop something on the floor when I get out of bed, I won’t even consider picking it up until after breakfast.”
I’ve talked about the kind of physical activities that keep a body youthful after 40, and the kind that extend life. As far back as I can remember, it was generally recognized that maintaining flexibility was an important factor. Countless studies in the last several decades have added to that list: Walking, high-intensity strength training, and cardiovascular exercises have made it to the top. But stretching is still among the top four.
That makes sense to me instinctively and because it fits into my expansion-contraction understanding of the rules of physics underlying the ebb and flow of energy – from our microscopic molecular structure to the ever-expanding universe and black holes.
Which is to say… what?
I suppose it’s to announce that I’m not going to settle for the very modest level of flexibility that I have now. I’m telling myself (an early phase of making a commitment) that I will spend at least five minutes twice a day, after each of my daily workouts, to get my body back to where it was in my mid-50s, when I first met JM.
I’m putting it on my “Sand Sieve List.”
“What’s a Sand Sieve List?” you may ask.
It’s sort of like a Bucket List. The difference is this: A Bucket List is a set of major accomplishments or experiences that you want to do or have before you die. A Sand Sieve List – the way I think about it – is composed of smallish things that you can take care of in a matter of hours or days.
An example: The first thing I put on my Sand Sieve List was to secrete myself away somewhere pleasant and safe from interruption for, maybe, two or three days. And to spend that time (when I’m not napping) looking through the 100+ coffee table books I’ve accumulated – to take the time to not just look at the photographs, but also read the text, which is, I’ve found, frequently very good.
