Seventy Nine Years Old - Yikes, That's OLD!

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Two days ago, I turned 79 years old. What a blessing it is to be alive and healthy, considering my advanced age. Today I am 79 yrs + 2 days = 28,856 days old. At my age, I must henceforth celebrate every day as an additional gift of life!

With thousands of books and publications written about the quest for a long life, it’s clear that there is widespread interest in the topic of aging and longevity. To be sure, most sentient creatures, probably from the beginning of time, labor to make sense and provide meaning and value to their lives in words, thoughts and/or prayers as an exit strategy for the inevitable. But we should also gain insight into life’s journey, not just from “experts in the field”, but through the words and actions of those who have lived a long life. Luigi Cornaro's The Art of Living Long was first published in 1550. He lived to 103. I have also personally learned from my father who lived to 102, from my maternal grandmother who lived to 105, and from Peter Atia who wants to live to 199. I’ll take 100 as my dream goal! 

Yet, the desire to live a long and healthy life rests on hope rather than the promise of a desired outcome, that sadly many fail to achieve. Staying alive and healthy takes hard work, discipline, and dedication, and even with the best of efforts, there is no guarantee that it will pay off in years of life gained. Too many factors are at play, some under one’s control (environment), others not (genetics). Moreover, it’s been my observation that as people age, many do not want to be reminded about how little time they have left on earth, talk about life and death in general, or dive deep into their medical histories to refine their general approach to health, medications, and/or diet. What cannot be debated is that each subsequent day of life shaves off yet another slice that can never be reclaimed. You cannot regain it with diet, with exercise, with prayer, by being good or bad, and even Elon Musk with his trillion-dollar salary cannot buy back even a second of time of his lived life. And yet it seems that more people dedicate their lives to gaining wealth and status, or more pitifully passing each day bemoaning their half empty cup, than to following a commonsense approach to staying healthy while appreciating their cup as half full. If indeed, you cannot reclaim even a second of life lived, you can potentially extend your life that one second with the right attitude and approach. But the kicker is that there is no such thing as one size fits all in the realm of healthy living, and no guarantee that your efforts will bear fruit. Nevertheless, I am one who is fully invested in the process. 

 

Yes, I am consumed with my desire for a long and healthy life. This has deepened since my retirement with more time to focus on myself without the intrusion of external work pressures and responsibilities. To this end, I consulted a random lifespan calculator that did not factor in blood pressure, cholesterol, BMI, renal function, exercise, etc. At 79, my calculated life expectancy is 89 years – that means I have lived 89% of my life with 10 years left to go. Moreover, according to this calculator, I have only a 25% chance of living until 93, a 10% chance of living to 96 and a 2.5% chance of living to 100. Yikes!!!! But I want to live as long as my toothless uneducated laboring father who lived to 102?  He wanted to live forever too. He was very healthy throughout his life, only deteriorating in the last 3 weeks before his death following a broken hip that befell him during an unexpected fall. 

Nevertheless, this conversation glaringly ignores an important dimension, that of quality of life. What matters if I live to 95 after suffering a massive stroke at age 85. Put me to sleep at 85 and I will feel comforted that I had 85 years of a full and functional life. But there is more to this discussion. Let me serve as the example to explain. At this moment in time, at 79-year, I walk at least 4-6+ miles per day by day’s end, swim for about 30 minutes/day 3-4 times a week for 7-8 months of the year, lift weights 3-5 times/week, practice ballroom dancing 3-4 times each week, and ski on at least two separate occasions each year for 3-4 days at Deer Valley, Utah. I keep my mind active reading newspapers, commentaries, listening to podcasts, occasionally reading books, and in writing exercises such as this. I travel once a month to visit my family and friends on the east and west coasts and to visit my favorite countries in Asia (I am presently in Bangkok). To be sure, I’ve been engaged in these activities and to this extent for two decades (since age 59) after going part time at the University. Along the way, I have adjusted my medication regimen and through weight training have improved my mobility and strength. While I have grown more careful and even somewhat risk averse with time, I acknowledge that I have incrementally deteriorated in my physical and mental capacity over these last 20 years. But most days, I feel no different than I felt 10 years ago, some days I feel no different than I felt 20 years ago, and I don’t remember how I felt 30 years ago so I will forgo that comparison.

 

Here is my greatest fear, and it’s not that I may have only 10 years left to live. What really frightens me is that regardless of this calculated death sentence, I cannot for the life of me visualize the loss of my remaining faculties, both mental and physical that I have depended upon for so long to fill my daily life. I do NOT want to age gracefully. I do not want to stop walking 4-6 miles, I do not want to stop swimming or dancing or skiing, I do not want to stop lifting weights, I do not want to stop traveling the world. But the real question is how will I greet these categorical moments that will indubitably emerge sooner or later? What do I do when I can’t do any of these activities? Will I be too demented to care? Will I somehow be able to adjust to the new reality? Will I be bitter and spiteful? Will I see the cup half full or half empty? Too many questions and very few answers. Maybe I should join the ranks of those who would rather not ask these questions or engage in lengthy discussions about death and dying and live each day with a positive spirit and gratitude that I can do the things I love for yet another day. Apropos, I think its time to start planning my 80th birthday celebration for next year in Singapore, Bali, and Chiang Mai.