Old? Fat? Feeling Death’s Icy Chill Down Your Neck?
Want to live forever? I can’t imagine why, in this Vale of Tears, but here’s how it works.
I just turned 49, and ran five miles today. The last time I did that was the day before they moved us into the desert camps in Kuwait, six miles up and down Gulf Road, six and a half years ago, at age 42. Four years ago at 45, after a lapse, I got back into it, did too much too soon, and injured myself. Limited myself to walking, started turning into a fat bastard anyway, and up until three months ago, figured it was all over.
It’s never over.
Feeling old, fat, with Death’s icy chill down your neck? Here’s what you do. If you aren’t already, then start walking. A couple of miles, work in three or four every now and then. You may have to do this for a while. It will have limited effect on your status as a fat bastard, but you will notice benefits and start to feel better. If you haven’t, or haven’t lately, then make exercise a habit.
Eventually, you’ll get bored with walking. You’ll see other people out running and think, well, that person can do that, why can’t I? Especially when you realize some of them are older and/or fatter than you. What you do then is run a quarter mile. This experience, if you have ever been fit, may well be humiliating and frightening when you realize what has become of you, and the extent to which Death has an icy grip on your chest. Only it isn’t exactly an icy grip. It’s more like a sweaty, gasping, pounding, suffocating, claustrophobic thing like you’re about to have a heart attack. Which you probably are.
Death is the world’s great shitbird, especially the way It starts taking possession of the body in advance of the occupant’s actual demise. Hence, Death must be defeated. OK, that isn’t going to happen, but it is possible to stick it in Death’s face.*
This is accomplished by running another quarter of a mile, walking more, and working it up to a half mile, with quarter-mile walks in between. You aren’t trying to win any races or impress anyone. You’re just building, slowly. Then one day, you run a whole mile. Walk a quarter, maybe run another quarter. Next thing you know, you’re running a mile regularly, walking a quarter and running a half. You will get sore. So some days you just walk. Some days you ride your bike. That’s called cross-training. It works other muscles, and it spares your ankles and knees.
Speaking of which, if you don’t know how already, then learn how to stretch. It is not possible to do any of this without stretching, because you will injure yourself. While you’re at it, learn how to do pushups and situps. There are websites devoted to all of this, stretching and exercising and how to get back into running when you’re old and fat. Friends who didn’t read them helpfully pointed them out to me, and I didn’t read them either, but you might find them helpful. Before you do any of this, by the way, you may want to talk to your doctor. Also, get someone to do it with you. It’s easier.
You will also need to learn how to breathe, how to deal with cramps, and all about pain. Because it will hurt, and the hurting will make you want to stop running and start walking. Sometimes, that’s advisable. A lot of times, it isn’t. It’s just your brain and your body conspiring to get you back on the couch. What, you think it’s supposed to be easy? If it was, every fat slob would be doing it. Look at it this way. Dealing with pain is just another way of telling Death to shove it.
The walking phase, as long as you aren’t being a complete moron diet-wise, will knock you down five pounds or so in a matter of weeks. The running phase, once you get into that, will take you down 10 in a matter of weeks and 20 in a matter of months. Even more if you stop drinking beer and eating steak and ice cream, but then, unless you have particular issues you have to deal with, you’re just letting Death win.
You will also begin to feel better about everything. Even the hurting parts. Extra bonus. A lot of the parts that are starting to hurt because you’re old and fat won’t any more.
If all that sounds tiring, it is. But it is also a relatively simple course that only requires diligence. If you have any trouble starting or sticking with it, I’d advise watching a few episodes of “The Biggest Loser.” That may well shame you off the couch, when you see what people are capable of.
* There are a lot of ways of doing that, sticking it in Death’s face. Running is just one of them. For people whose issues and infirmities are such that even walking, let alone running, poses a challenge, it is necessary sometimes to simply live to the fullest one can, in the best way one can, and also let Death know you don’t give a damn. The latter is the best revenge on the rattley old scythe-swinging mofo. If you are constrained in anyway, then consulting with doctors, the local Y, etc. about appropriate exercise and physical therapy programs is of course advised. Not everyone can run. There’s a guy younger than me in the neighborhood, had a stroke, I see him out hobbling purposefully on his leg brace every day. Can’t walk? Maybe you can swim. But if you can exercise nothing else, exercise your middle finger at Death.
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Topics: everything
Posted by Jules Crittenden at 11:19 am on Tuesday, September 1, 2009
12 Responses to “Old? Fat? Feeling Death’s Icy Chill Down Your Neck?”
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September 1st, 2009 at 11:37 am
Jules — Happy birthday! You should consider starting a boutique for those of us who passed that threshold age-wise a few years ago (for me, it was 2006). Good solid advice to demonstrate that it is not futile. Warmongers doing what’s necessary to stab death in the eye.
September 1st, 2009 at 12:11 pm
Hmmm, I’ll be 63 this month and when people ask how I am (I’m a lung cancer survivor of 3 years, 9 months) I tell them “I’m alive and well, fat and sassy and not necessarily in that order.” It has the salutatory effect of being accurate, and at 63 I really feel on top of my game. I have a great wife so this old body isn’t interested in attracting any lady types so I can be the curmudgeon I’ve always wanted to be. :)
September 1st, 2009 at 12:12 pm
Whenever I feel the urge to run, I sit down until it goes away.
September 1st, 2009 at 12:25 pm
At 55, and a former avid runner/rollerblader, I keep starting, stopping, restarting, stopping this exact regimen.
The exercise bit is a no-brainer.
Someday, someone will come up with a reliable way to maintain the motivation and discipline to do it - without a drill instructor or personal trainer hounding you out of bed at 6:30am, or kicking you in the ass a couple times a day. After that, there will be no real challenges left in the world.
September 1st, 2009 at 2:11 pm
Sigh… I’m suffering from dumb fingers syndrome… I meant to type slubrious not salutatory. Sigh… :-)
September 1st, 2009 at 3:22 pm
Happy Birthday, Jules!
September 1st, 2009 at 8:04 pm
Make the most of this happy day, because next year, when the half-century hits, subsidence happens.
Happy Birthday.
September 1st, 2009 at 9:25 pm
Not everybody can run. I couldn’t do it, even when I was young and thin. Weak ankles, and increasingly weak hips (oddly, no problem with the knees).
But Death does deserve a thumb in the eye. This summer, at age 62, with a dodgy ticker and an iffy endocrine system, I bought myself a kayak (a decades long dream), so I could paddle around on the flat water of our nearby lake. My doctor said no, and I said, why not. If you can’t live your life the way you want to, what’s the point? I paddle, I beach, I rest, drink water, eat a powerbar, and then I paddle some more, and when the event calls for it, I toss choice words at stupid jet skiers. I have my cell phone in a waterproof bag if there’s trouble, and if it overwhelms me before I can call for help, so be it. I’ll at least be where I want to be, doing what I loved when I was a kid.
The worst part, though, is getting the damn thing on and off the top of the car. It’s only 37 pounds, but it’s ten feet long and awkward. God may humiliate me yet, by having the lake rangers discover my dead body next to my car with the kayak on top of me — probably within a week or so, when they get around to patrolling the hand launch area. If there’s an afterlife, though, I’ll probably get a chuckle out of my kids’ embarrassment.
Happy birthday, Jules. Good to see you have your head on straight. Enjoy a long, and happy life.
September 2nd, 2009 at 6:10 am
LOL RebeccaH, thank you for that story. I could see myself fumbling with the kayak and car, only to finally drag it to the water, get in and mess up basic kayaking.
I needed the laugh in my convalescence.
September 2nd, 2009 at 7:25 am
happy birthday and good for you for your exercising, jules!
i ran too much as a youngster (literally thousands of miles in high school and 4 marathons before i was 20) so my knees and feet are shot. but i work out when i can and always try to walk when playing golf if the course allows it (drives me nuts when they won’t)
oh, and i drink a lot of wine :)
September 2nd, 2009 at 8:42 am
Jules, everything you said worked for me until I was 49 also. Now I’m a 60-year-old fat bastard. Get ready, ’cause here it comes. Happy birthday.
Crusty6
September 2nd, 2009 at 9:05 am
I used to run and everything you wrote is true. The very hardest part is getting out there and not making excuses to “skip a day”. Which turns in to a week, a month, a year.
A few years ago on the advice of my doctor, I stopped running and started biking. As he pointed out, it’s easier on the body and better exercise than running. It is a tad more expensive though.
As to the pain, I found that taking Tylenol before I start riding, the pain is much less than waiting until after the ride.
And remember, Pain is weakness leaving your body.
Happy birthday, buy a bike, get fit.