The View from 76

A few days ago, I turned 76. I can sum up how I feel about it with a little story. Last week, I was in a shop in New York looking at some snorkeling gear for a short Caribbean trip I was about to take. While the shop owner was waiting on me, he asked how old I was, and I told him. He said he was also 76 and mentioned that he still teaches scuba diving, plus, he is the fencing coach for a high school team in New Jersey and still fences competitively. I told him about my book, website, and lifestyle. We were two peas in a pod. I bought a few things, and as I left, he said, “Really nice to meet you, Ron. It’s so refreshing to meet a contemporary who is not an old man.” That put a big smile on my face as I told him, “Same here.”

Turning 76 is not as big a deal as last year’s turning 75. This year, I didn’t experience a long period of build-up like I did last year. I’m not sure why. It might be because my right leg and knee were problematic at the time, and I was concerned about whether I would be able to keep pursuing my active lifestyle. I’ve been able to stabilize that condition with the help of some curative yoga, and I am not overly concerned about it now. My anxious build-up could also have been linked to the number 75—and all it portends. There’s no denying you’re not young anymore at that age, no matter how healthy and active you are.

My anxious feelings about turning 75 could also have been related to the upcoming empty-nest phase of my life, with my daughters getting older and what it might mean to me. I had children when many people are already grandparents, so I’m just now experiencing my children going out into the world on their own.

And the anxious feelings might have been due to my fear of hitting a “wall” of aging, like the wall that marathon runners encounter at about the 20-mile mark when they feel like they can’t push anymore. Somehow they have to find another level of mental fortitude to rally and keep pushing at the same level of effort to finish the race. What if I hit a “wall”? What if I lost energy and couldn’t keep pushing myself? Perhaps the build-up I felt was a combination of all these (mostly) unfounded worries, as well as others yet to come to light.

But whatever it was, this year feels “lighter,” not only in weight but in my outlook. My empty-nest situation has started without too much drama. My daughters and I are as close and as fond of each other as ever, but we’re just not in each other’s company as often as we were. I am spending more time in New York now that my presence in London isn’t as necessary. I am continuing my health practices and my writing as much as ever, maybe even more so. I am also pursuing new yoga studies and aiming to become a certified yoga teacher. I am looking forward to taking up residence again on Long Island for the summer months at the end of April. I feel as if the universe is asking me to continue to pursue the work I’ve started, to push the envelope of health and the experience of later life, and to report what I find out.

But Most of All …

But most of all (going back to how I started this article), I don’t feel like an old man. I am chronologically 76, but don’t feel that way. I have my physical health and mental faculties, the ability to move with no restrictions, and a high level of energy. My daily pursuit of life, my appreciation of the “NOW” of each and every day, has not been compromised in any way by my age. That’s the golden rule of healthspan, isn’t it? Living the life you want to live and not making choices based on reduced capacity. In fact, some of that capacity has become enhanced as I delve more deeply into my health practice and into the wonder of what it feels like to be alive and in good health.

Don’t get me wrong—there are many things I notice about getting older, such as taking longer to warm up and get moving or taking longer to recover after exercise. Thankfully, once I do warm up, I can still do most of the activities and exercises I’ve always done and, in some cases, even more. I am learning new, enhanced ways to recover more quickly, mostly yoga-based methods, and in some instances, I am just content to take the extra time and be more patient with myself.

Others Love Their 70s, Too

I can attest to the survey results I’ve read that our 70s are the happiest years of our lives, followed closely by our 80s. There is certainly wisdom and joy in these years that I wasn’t expecting to experience, and this feels like a bonus. I’m also grateful that, unlike much of my life, I am better at allowing myself to experience joy and savor it while it lasts. I’m sure my health practices have a lot to do with that, and I mean all of them, not just the physical ones. Living each day, being as present as possible in my amazingly complex body, and being grateful for the life I have are all as important as any cardio regime, yoga pose, or strength workout. Having the tools, like psychotherapy, to work things out or just be patient when things aren’t going well, are also great assets for me.

So, yes, 76 is a good age. I am so happy that, almost 20 years ago, my “ah-ha” moment offered me the opportunity to fix my life and fix my health. That awakening, that single moment in time, has formed the basis for a vastly different and wonderful “life yet to live” than I ever could have expected. I don’t feel old or act old, even though I am embracing the fact that I am getting older. I don’t know what the future holds, but this birthday is going down as a really nice one.