Malcolm Gauld
First off, this is not a historical piece chronicling the physical conditioning practices of the 1970s. (Relax, there are no Jane Fonda work-out tapes or Saturday Night Fever disco playlists ahead.)
It is, instead, a one-day-in-the-life autobiographical piece presenting my efforts to “not let the old man in” (see Clint Eastwood) as I stand at the dawn of my 8th decade above ground.
The Short Story — One weekend this month I set a goal to complete a personal pentathlon (5 events) within a 24-hour period in the following order:
1. Run a 4-mile loop;
2. Bicycle around the city of Bath;
3. Basketball (full-court) for 90 minutes;
4. SUP (stand-up paddle) a 4-mile loop at Nequasset Lake;
5. Play a round of golf (on foot) at Bath GC.
Q: Did I complete the pentathlon? A: Yes… Q: Did I do it like a 22-year-old? A: Heck, no. I did it like the 70-year-old I am… Q: OK, so what does that look like? A: Read on.
Some Background: Although active since childhood in my sports of my choice — esp. basketball, lacrosse, running, surfing, stand-up paddling — I had recently grown weary of repeatedly finding myself on the “injured reserve list” due to an ever-faster/turning merry-go-round of overuse injuries: hamstring, calf, achilles, rotator cuff, patella… Lather, Rinse, Repeat… Not only is my physical therapist on speed dial, he has become adept at predicting which injury I will be calling him about right down to which side of the body will be affected. So, I needed to change my routines.
One thing I had going for me is the fact that I both realize and accept that I cannot compete in any of these sports at the same level of proficiency I might have managed in my 50s, to say nothing of my 20s. That said, I do not love these activities any less than I did in younger days. What’s more, I continue to be energized by the challenge of walking on to a basketball court or lacrosse field — typically against substantively younger competition — and trying to determine how I can best utilize whatever attributes I might still possess in order to capitalize on any perceived deficiencies I might detect in my opponent(s). I like to think my game above the neck is improving despite the decline of everything below it. Regardless, when the results are positive, it seems to be due to a 4-part mixture of physical conditioning, Zen, mental application, and joy.
I still like to keep score and I still like to set and strive to achieve goals, but even those are different today. In the 80s and 90s when I was running marathons, I kept copius track of my mileage and times. Today I might look at my watch but the obsession is gone. On the one hand, for decades my go-to running distance has been four miles. However, today I do a walk-run routine where I fit 18 (my lucky number!) runs of varying lengths and speeds into the mix. It ends up being about 3 parts run to 1 part walk. That way the heart rate is challenged more than might occur during a hike, but I avoid that relentless pressure on the legs leading to injury.
I also have gotten into a pattern of long and perhaps off-beat walks. On a recent visit with my daughter, I walked out of her home in the Philadelphia suburbs and spent the better part of one day trekking into and around Center City (15+-miles) before taking the train back to her place. On another visit with my other daughter in NYC, I took the #1 Subway train up to the 225th Street Station in the Bronx, stepped out on to Broadway and began walking south until I ran out of road 16+- miles later at the Staten Island Ferry. Not only did I have a blast, I just might be the only human who can claim to have toured The Big Apple three ways: 1) Running (5 NYC Marathons between 1986 and 1996)… Paddling (2 circumnavigations of Manhattan on stand-up paddleboard for the cause of autism in 2016 and 2019)… and now Walking the island from tip-to-tip. While there was a competitive element to #1 and #2, I took my sweet time on #3, stopping for espressos, lunch, book stores, and strolls around Columbia U and Fort Tryon. Senior citizen life is good!
Returning to my pentathlon, I’ve been playing basketball three times a week with some of the same folks since the mid-80s. We’ve grown old together and adapted the rigor of the game to our liking. One basic rule for membership is “No Jerks Allowed.” (Only, we use a different word than “jerk.”) Years ago, we abandoned the time-honored “winner stays” model in favor of sitting out a game after every two games. Thus, everyone gets a breather at some point. But the main requirement is to pledge allegiance to this statement: “Regardless of how good I might have been at one time, that’s gone and it’s not coming back.” If you cannot say that about yourself, we urge you to find another game.
The bicycle leg represents a new development. My aforementioned physical therapist (the awesome Pat Nelson at Coastal Ortho in Brunswick) told me that my patella might benefit from a bit of pedaling. Taking his advice, this spring I traded in my beloved Vespa 300 GTE for a fat-tired e-bike. (Talk about a senior citizen godsend!) Rather than drive the car to the office or downtown to Cafe Creme for a cup of coffee, I now pedal whenever feasible. It’s fun and, thus far, my patella approves. And the assist from the e-bike allows me to pedal at a chill pace and still get where I’m going in good time.
As for SUP, I have always loved surfing and the surfing life. In fact, after letting it go in the mid-70s, I re-embraced surfing fully in the mid-90s. My son and I were regulars in local line-ups and I reveled in epic trips to Cali, Costa Rica, the Carolinas, Florida, Hawaii, etc. About a decade ago, I transitioned almost exclusively to SUP. I love playing the tides and winds on adventure paddles up-and-down the Kennebec River and exploring Maine’s seacoast and lakes.
Golf is also a new, but deliberate part of my Clint Eastwood aging plan. A major contributing factor to my overuse injury issues was a plain-and-simple case of denial. Ever since getting into running in the 80s — in tandem with my decision to quit drinking — I have craved that endorphin high. (In fact, whenever Laura would accuse me of swapping one addiction for another, I would flippantly reply, “If you would prefer, I can always go back to the other ones.”… LOL) I was able to get away with not taking days off in my 30s and 40s, but it took getting to my late 60s before I was willing to admit that my recurring injuries were, in fact, a direct reaction to my body rebelling against my excessive work-out habits. I accepted that I needed to take days off, but I was loath to spend those days sitting around the house. Enter golf!
So, I decided to join the Bath Golf Club and sneak over to the course after work a few days each week to walk a quick 9 holes. I quickly began to appreciate this routine as a relaxing 5K (3.1 miles) walk in a beautiful setting. (Sometimes I double the distance with the full 18.) I also find that I have acquired the “bug” that afflicted my dad and so many others. (As for my performance, well, let’s just say that I cannot recall ever doing anything in my life where the rate of improvement has been so slow, but that may be another blog post for another time.)
And finally, all of the above sets me up for my greatest athletic love: lacrosse. Each year I play in the 65+ division of the Florida Lacrosse (Jan) and Lake Placid (NY) Summit Classics (Aug). The above activities, along with weekly pick-up games in greater Portland where I am most definitely the “old dude,” help me live up to my motto: “I may be old, but I’m slow.”
Onward, Malcolm
