Life at 75: Another New Frontier and a New Chapter

Continuing to Evolve as a Person is Vital to Later Life Health

Ok, here goes. I turned 75 a couple of weeks ago. The 2-3 months leading up to that event have been unexpectedly turbulent on many fronts. This turbulence has not been in my external life, the circumstances of family, friends and finances, but in my internal life, the world of my physical and emotional body and self. It has largely preoccupied and consumed me, so much so that it is leading to a great change and transformation within me. This turbulence seems to be heralding a unique, new chapter in life that I hadn’t expected at this age. It has gained equal weight and importance alongside my “ah-ha moment” and the great transformation that led to the start of my health journey almost 20 years ago that I’ve chronicled in my book. This current turbulence has become a more friendly presence as I absorb what it is trying to show me and teach me. Like I noted in my article on healing, I am taking in its messages on all fronts.

It all began with pain in my right leg, which I have mentioned in recent posts. In what has been eerily similar to a previous episode several years ago—which I wrote about in my book in a section of the last chapter called “Learning to Walk Again”—I have had IT (iliotibial) band pain and discomfort on and off for almost a year. It comes and goes, gets better and worse, but in December 2024 it began getting worse and didn’t “go” like it usually does. I realized I needed to find some additional healing help. I knew from previous episodes that these symptoms were not all physical or medical, but that they have a large emotional component. (Reading about the work of Dr. John Sarno has helped me make emotional connections to my physical symptoms, which I’ve found can lead to real healing results.)

At the same time, turning 75 began to loom larger than I had expected it would, as most of my birthdays up till now had been casual affairs that simply marked an extra year and had not bothered me. This one, however, was causing some concern and anxiety that the previous ones hadn’t. When I let myself feel all these emotions, an increased sense of vulnerability came with them, despite all the wonderful things I do to protect myself from early aging, improve my health, and increase my life span.

These days, I am feeling my mortality much more keenly than I usually do. As I wrote in a recent Bucket List article, even though I feel pretty great every day and have stellar health and fitness markers, the amount of sand in the hourglass of my life is less than it was before, and it will eventually run out. That is the ultimate fate for all of us, no matter our path to that end.

Another aspect of this sense of turbulence and anxiety is the empty nest I am experiencing as my young daughters blossom into their own adult lives. Yes, there is great pride in experiencing this with them, and see the wonderful self-sufficient women they are turning out to be, but there is much less need for me to be a 24/7 dad, something I miss but am not necessary for anymore. This situation also contributes to feeling older and more mortal.

I fully want and expect to live another 20 or 30 years, so I was caught off guard when these emotions started to surface. This new chapter in my life is presenting itself to me as completely uncharted and new territory. It’s promising and scary at the same time.

Things have started to shift, however, both with my leg as well as my inner concerns. I have pursued physical healing as well as emotional healing, exploring the territory of my early-childhood emotional life. The anxiety and turbulence that came with my now post-75, later-life mortality awareness mirrors the largely unexpressed pain I felt as a child at the time of my father’s death. As I allow myself to feel both ends of that vulnerability—my father’s death and my own inevitable mortality—the only solution I am finding is showing myself kindness and compassion, for the child I was and for the aging adult I am. This self-kindness, as well as kindness toward others, is different from the hard-driving way I have spent much of my life. It is not typical of my usual attitude toward myself, and I’m recognizing that it needs to be a bigger part of my life from here on out. This is a part of the message that this turbulence, this new chapter, is trying to teach me, but there are many other threads. 

Resilience and “The Wall”

A while back I wrote an article about resilience and “the wall,” a term marathoners use to describe an all-over physical and mental resistance that happens around the 18- to 20-mile mark of the 26-mile race. I noted that there is a similar wall in later life, something that older Master Program athletes describe as happening around age 75. Both “walls” require resilience and coming to terms with a new situation to get through them. I believe this is the big picture of what I am going through now. My previous health focus, which centered on ensuring I would be around for my daughters as a vibrant, involved, healthy father, needs an update. My updated focus still involves having my daughters in my life as they mature but also incorporates a larger focus on my own needs and happiness as I move into this new chapter of my life.

I don’t believe you can achieve anything worthwhile without having to struggle through some sort of anxiety, turbulence, discomfort or effort. Despite my new vulnerability, I am still in remarkable physical and mental health for a 75-year-old, a testament, I believe, to the journey I have been on and the health practices I have been following for almost the past 20 years. I do believe that I am on the right course by following my inner prompts and sticking to whatever path my current physical and emotional challenges are pointing me toward. When it is working it feels real, and solid, and pretty great.

What lies beyond my personal “wall” is anyone’s guess. There are small signs that it might be pretty wonderful, with more social engagement as well as deeper trust in my inner, genuine self. The point of me telling this story is to trust the inspiration that comes from inside despite it being scary or uncomfortable. It usually leads to higher ground. So, on my birthday, which I spent quietly and simply with my 2 favorite people, my daughters, and in this new, uncharted territory I am in the thick of, I am asking for inner guidance, kindness, staying open, and the cherished life of living one healthy and wonderful day a time. Stay tuned…

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