60 and onwards : Become the King of Poland.
*not a troll post
*not a troll post
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In an interview in Sunday's NYTimes Book Review section, Philip Roth, now 84, says"…in just a matter of months I’ll depart old age to enter deep old age — easing ever deeper daily into the redoubtable Valley of the Shadow.…”
And that he’s astonished that he makes it to the end of each day.
Got me thinking about aging. I’ll be 83 in a few months.
Looking back, my golden years physically were ages 50-65 or so, in terms of strength/cardio/flexibility adjusted for age. A lot of this had to do with me working on fitness books — stretching, running, weight training — for 20 years, and hanging out, and stretching, running, and lifting weights with my authors. I was serious runner for 20-25 years, swam, surfed, rode bikes and went to aerobic dance classes (usually the only guy in the class).
Then as I got to age 70, things started needing repair. A lifetime of using the body.
I tell people, the good news is that you’re not yet 70, the bad news is that you will be some day. Since turning 70, I’ve had 2 shoulders and 2 knees and one wrist repaired (no metal or plastic parts) + a compound wrist fracture from skateboarding...yes, I know, I know.
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Old people get weak more from lack of activity than from ticking of the clock.
I’m so interested in my work these days, I don’t get out as much as I should. BUT each time I go for a hike, or paddle, or jump under a cold waterfall, I feel invigorated, alive, inspired.
Bob Anderson says, “You never hear anyone saying, ‘I’m sorry I just worked out.’”
What I learned in those years, from those guys, was the value of staying fit.
I work on posture every time I think of it. If I see as person with good or bad posture, it's a reminder. Shoulders back, down, relax.
If you don't use it, you are gonna lose it fer shure.
So this is a reminder to myself to get my ass away from the keyboard more often. Mind and body are not separate entities.
Quote: (01-30-2018 10:02 AM)Eddie Winslow Wrote:Class Act
Once my body really starts to fail me at 75-80+, I'd like to retire to my local poker room. I will show up every day at 9am and play 1/2 NL holdem and small buy-in poker tournaments all fucking day and talk shit to the young guns and bust all of the dealers' balls. I will leave every day at the same time so I can get the early-bird special at the buffet and beat the traffic home.
All the pretty 21 year old waitresses will know my name and look forward to seeing me everyday because I will be the funny, sweet old man who sneaks them jolly ranchers and tips them $2 every time they bring me a hot cup of tea. I'll tell them they remind me of my deceased wife and/or beautiful granddaughter (neither who actually exist) and they will regularly give me hugs, which will be enough to satisfy any remaining sex drive I have left in my ancient balls.
Everyone there will love me until the day I die. After I go, the dealers and casino managers will reminisce about me and share my stories with other dealers and players until they die too.