This morning, I was wondering what the neighbors think.
Three times a week at oh dark thirty, they could feasibly see my high curly/frizzy ponytail or messy bun bopping up and down along with my dumbbells. I work out with YouTube’s Nourish Move Love.
I appreciate this channel for many, many reasons. Like the fact that I am encouraged to be strong rather than skinny, and to have fitness goals rather than aesthetic goals. And the fact that the instructor, Lindsey, says things like, “I’m doing this for my seventy-year-old self right now.”
She advocates strength for the tasks in front of you, like loving your family, and for longevity for days to come.
I like that God describes the “Proverbs 31 woman” using words like these:
With the fruit of her hands she plants a vineyard.
She dresses herself with strength
and makes her arms strong…Strength and dignity are her clothing,
and she laughs at the time to come. (vv. 16-17, 25, emphasis added)
Your “Centenarian Decathlon”
I’ve been thinking about longevity–and what it takes to get there–in the past couple of years after my husband read researcher Dr. Peter Attia’s book, Outlive.
Attia poses an intriguing question. What ten activities do you want to be able to complete when you’re 100?
On Attia’s own list:
- Hike 1.5 miles on a hilly trail
- Get up off the floor using a maximum of one arm for support
- Pick up a 30-pound child from the floor
- Carry two five-pound bags of groceries for five blocks
- Lift a 20-pound suitcase into the overhead compartment of a plane
- Balance on one leg for 30 seconds with eyes open. (Bonus: eyes closed for 15 seconds)
- Have sex
- Climb four flights of stairs in three minutes
- Open a jar
- Do thirty consecutive jump-rope skips
Then get this. Based on what you want to be able to do–the quality of life you hope to be living–what workouts do you need to be doing right now?
Attia calls this your “Centenarian Decathlon.”
See, muscles begin to shrink in your 30s–vanishing up to 25% by age 60. So if you want to pick up that suitcase, you need to be lifting enough now–like, today–to account for that 25% “tax” on your capacity.
And I mean–what about number seven? There probably aren’t a ton of people who think, Hope I don’t have sex the last forty years of my life. But an estimated 47% of couples in their sixties are in “sexless” marriages (less than ten times per year).
Now that’s a little disheartening.
Causes are complex, for sure. But having sex is physically complex, too. You need strength, flexibility, cardiovascular fitness.
What would you need to do now so you can have sex then?
Stanford’s Dr. Jonathan Bonnet explains the difference between lifespan and healthspan. “Lifespan is the number of years you’re on this planet, but healthspan is the number of years that you’re healthy—being able to live independently and partake in activities you enjoy.”
No matter what decade you’re in, experts agree it’s never too late to exercise. What muscle, discipline, and habits do “today-you” have to build like in order to make “tomorrow-you” a reality?
Because I Want to Be a Cool Old Person
Sure, the season for resolutions may have swung by already. But I’m still thinking on that meta-level right now.
Far more than my body–looking at my relationships with God and people, what kind of cool old person do I want to be?
I’m thinking the choices I make today, or don’t, live with other people when I’ve shuffled off this mortal coil.
I spoke to a friend this week who asked about my two adult boys living on their own now. “What do you do to get your boys to talk to you?”
My chest ached for her. This person was describing painful family realities, some of which came to a head years ago. And my boys will tell you it’s not always roses here, for sure.
My friend and I talked about the intricacies of truly resolving conflict. I imagine my connection to my kids as holding out my hand, an offered bridge.
It’s one John and I attempt to regularly build and reinforce. We need bridges strong enough to support truth when it must be communicated, spending some of that relational equity.
Yet lose the bridge–or fail to adequately strengthen it–and everything else collapses with it.
From this point, right here, what are you building?
Relationally and spiritually, what do you want to be building, so it’s more than capable later?
What would make your “Relational Centenarian Decathlon” list–or just the kind of Jesus-follower, spouse, parent, or friend you want to be in the next two years? Five? Ten?
Maybe your home be the one that’s a deep breath of air for everyone passing through. Maybe your kids will marvel at how you enjoy each other now, after muscling through trust and forgiveness after all that betrayal or distance between you. Or you could be mentoring someone over a couple of lattes.
In Don’t Waste Your Life, pastor John Piper emphasizes that our lives are about the greatness of God, not our own significance. So
The well-lived life must be God-exalting and soul-satisfying because that is why God created us (Isa. 43:7, Psalm 90:14). And “passion” is the right word (or zeal, fervor, ardor, blood-earnestness), because God commands us to love him with all our heart.
…. Desire that your life count for something great! Long for your life to have eternal significance. Want this! Don’t coast through life without a passion.
I think, as followers of Jesus, “coasting” isn’t really a thing.
So this week, maybe take some time to dream with God about God-honoring “future you”, if he allows that in the days he has for you.
1. Write down at least three things that would make your “Centenarian Triathlon/Pentathlon” list.
2. What next steps of “exercise” do those qualities require today? What’s your plan to get to “future you,” for God’s honor, and maybe the sake of your kids, spouse, neighbors?
Maybe “future you” is present and well-connected with their spouse. Less angry with their kids (want help? Don’t miss my book releasing in April!). A kick-butt prayer warrior. (Can I say that?)
Maybe you won’t be swinging dumbells around before sunrise like some overachieving nutjob. (Some people, am I right?)
But if next year, you’re intentionally stronger–whatever it is, isn’t it worth the lift?
[i] Shaunti Feldhahn, Lisa A. Rice, For Parents Only: Getting Inside the Head of Your Kid, Multnomah Books, 2007, pp. 28, 30, 111.
