Read carefully. It’s time for wisdom of the aged.
Having served 27 years in the Air Force, I’m familiar with maintaining a “healthy” lifestyle that falls under a certain set of standards. I still remember my magic number – 184.5. That was the maximum I could weigh. And believe me, I played with that line like a pro. Just like I played with my PT test – timing my “health” to come to its apex on the day of the test.
When I retired, my “max” had made its way to 192 (the Air Force changes things every so often), and so I’ll always remember my weight at retirement – it was 192. And I kind of hung there for quite a while after retiring.
Thing is, I was no longer under the gun. No more weigh-ins. No more tapings (waist measurements). No more PT tests. And this is where I learned a little about fat and muscle mass. Like, muscle weighs more than fat. Like, you might be sitting there around 192 for the longest time when you suddenly stop with the standards, but you’re not actually maintaining body health. You’re losing muscle. You’re gaining fat. And then all of a sudden, you’re 194. Then 198. And then in a couple of months, you suddenly realize you’re 209, and it shows. Nothing fits. Your face and neck look “puffier” in photos (looking back, it shocks me a bit how easy it got there).
But not to fear…
When I was in my 30s, I let my health and weight get away from me a bit. Not the max allowable or anything – I still had to keep it down within striking distance of 184.5 – I was just losing my edge. And why not? I was 36, right? Things change (oh my, how naïve I was to think 36 was a line where meaningful “change” actually happened…I had no idea at that time what 60 would do). So I got a nice little Sony Walkman CD player and took to the streets. Just walking. Everywhere. An hour or two every night – down every side alley of Songtan I could find. And the weight melted away.
Now fast-forward six, eight years. I’m back up to a spot where I think, “You know, I’ve gotta get in some kind of shape again.” So out comes the Walkman…but the weight? Hey, I’m in my 40s now. It’s getting a little more stubborn.
And that was my first big lesson in metabolism. “The older you get, the harder it is.”
It came off…kind of. But it wasn’t as easy as walking around town. It took a whole lot more.
Now, back to that post-retirement 209…
I can honestly say, that was my low point. I don’t know how I let myself get there, but it happened. So I resolved to get down and not go back, and that met with a bit of success (although I don’t remember how). I did get to the point where the next weight of memory was…192 again. Still, that’s not that great, especially as I got older. I needed a jolt, and in 2021, I got it with something called a “10-day green smoothie cleanse.” Yeah, sounds a bit gimmicky, but it worked. In 10 days I went from 192 to 181, and from there I adapted my smoothie habit to get myself all the way down to 160 (with a couple of forays into the 150s). This was good. If you ask me my best year on the bike, I’d say “2021” without hesitation, and if you look at my stats, a lot of PRs and milestones happened in 2021 (to include nearly 5,500 miles of riding). It made a difference.
But, you know how it is. Top 5,000 miles again in 2022, but 3,500 in ’23 and ’24, and barely 3,000 in ’25. And a corresponding climb back up onto the 180s on the scale.
So let’s get out the Walkman again, right? Well, just like that stretch a few decades ago where I discovered metabolism…wrong. But this time I didn’t do it with a full-on 10-day “cleanse,” I just went back on the smoothies for breakfast and lunch, and a “reasonable” dinner. And it’s worked. I’d say I’ve been at it for about 4 months, and I’m down to just over 170. Problem is, this isn’t a, “well, let’s get back to 160 again” thing. It looked to be going that way, but let’s not get too far ahead of ourselves. I bought a scale that works with an app and it’s been great, but it also tells me of my struggles. On June 19th, I was hanging in the 173-174 range. Here I am a month later, and I’m hanging around 171. Even in 5 years it’s gotten that much less easy.
So here I am. But this time I know I can’t afford the climb back up. I know where it starts getting “crappy.” When I feel like garbage, and can’t handle the day both physically and rubbing off into my mental state. I’ve got to control myself, because next time I see the 180s will be the last time I say goodbye to the 170s. Not good.
Now, I get it. We all have our struggles. And I’m not saying that what happened to me is entirely the norm. I am telling you that there’s a certain point that you should recognize there’s something…well, at 36 you can say “not quite right” about your body. At 63, it’s flat-out “wrong.” Pay attention. I hit 209 at one time, and some people might say, “209? Luxury!” But for me, 209 was really over the red line, and I should have known that by how I felt. At 63 years of age and 188 (my latest popup), I was starting to feel like crap – knowing full well that it wouldn’t be getting any easier. I’d lived it. In ’21 I went from 192 to 160 and felt great…but let it go. So in ’26, I hit 188 and, doing what I did just five years ago in ’21, can’t seem to conquer 170. That’s the new red line – getting somewhere and never going back. Because if I get to that point again, there will be no more struggling to get back down there. It just won’t happen. And I’ll be miserable…
So there’s your wisdom. It’s obvious, but actually pretty hard to absorb when you’re 30. Or 40. Or maybe even 50 or 60 (hey, 5 years ago I thought I was alright at 58). Take it from the old guy now – take care of yourself while you can or suffer for it.
Let me back this up then by leaving you with this gem from Ecclesiastes:
“Remember also your Creator in the days of your youth, before the evil days come and the years draw near of which you will say, ‘I have no pleasure in them’; before the sun and the light and the moon and the stars are darkened and the clouds return after the rain, in the day when the keepers of the house tremble, and the strong men are bent, and the grinders cease because they are few, and those who look through the windows are dimmed, and the doors on the street are shut—when the sound of the grinding is low, and one rises up at the sound of a bird, and all the daughters of song are brought low—they are afraid also of what is high, and terrors are in the way; the almond tree blossoms, the grasshopper drags itself along, and desire fails, because man is going to his eternal home, and the mourners go about the streets—before the silver cord is snapped, or the golden bowl is broken, or the pitcher is shattered at the fountain, or the wheel broken at the cistern, and the dust returns to the earth as it was, and the spirit returns to God who gave it. Vanity of vanities, says the Preacher; all is vanity.” (Ecclesiastes 12:1-8)
But I can’t leave you there (even if that’s the lesson). I’ll leave you instead with the words of Habakkuk which, although start bleakly, finish strong with a bit of truth and encouragement:
“Though the fig tree should not blossom, nor fruit be on the vines, the produce of the olive fail and the fields yield no food, the flock be cut off from the fold and there be no herd in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the Lord; I will take joy in the God of my salvation. God, the Lord, is my strength; he makes my feet like the deer’s; he makes me tread on my high places.” Habakkuk 3:17-19
There will come a day where my health will no longer be a problem. I’m ready for it…