Last Saturday, while waiting for my heart rate to descend from the rafters after a grueling HIIT session, the reality of the room came into focus: I am easily twenty years older than everyone else in the class. There is a quiet satisfaction in keeping pace with twenty-somethings, but it’s also a stark reminder of the gap in intentionality. For them, fitness is a windfall. For those of us in the second half of life, it is a Physical 401(k) that requires disciplined, daily contributions just to stay in the game.
We talk a lot about financial literacy, but we rarely discuss physical literacy. In our youth, we lived off an “inheritance” of high metabolisms and quiet joints. A fund that is rapidly depleted by the sedentary habits of modern life. As the decades stack up, that inheritance disappears. The wardrobe gets tighter, the joints start negotiating, and the bloodwork begins sounding alarms. By the time we hit “middle age,” we realize that luck is no longer a sustainable strategy.
We’ve been taught that “middle age” starts in our 50s. But simple math tells a different story. If the average lifespan is roughly 80, the middle is 40. We cross that meridian much sooner than we care to admit. That midpoint represents the moment we must re-evaluate our habits, even the ones we consider healthy.
If we aim to be high-functioning octogenarians, the stretch between forty and sixty is where we either double down on our contributions or begin a steady withdrawal into frailty. I’ve seen it time and again. Even the naturally fit often fall apart in their fifties because they stopped making deposits. This is especially prevalent among military veterans. The “Freshman Fifteen” has nothing on that first year of shedding the uniform and its inherent accountability.
I am hyper-aware of mortality and the speed at which time passes. After my most recent birthday, I began working out as much and as hard as I ever have, save for those grueling months training for an Ironman. But the intensity is now matched by a deep dive into and an appreciation for the science of longevity.
I’ve traded the “no pain, no gain” mantra for a more sophisticated toolkit. Supplementation and data-driven recovery aren’t just hobbies; they are the “employer match” to my hard work in the gym. I am unashamedly embracing the science to slow the decline. I’m not just trying to survive a HIIT class. I’m trying to ensure that when I’m eighty (if I am lucky enough to get there), I have the mobility to remain useful, present, and engaged.
Slowing the decline isn’t an act of vanity; it’s an act of stewardship. We are more than our bodies, but our bodies are the only vehicles we have to deliver our contribution to the world.
If we want to continue being active participants in our families and organizations well into our later decades, we have to make our Physical 401(k) contributions today. Not all that different from catch-up contributions on our Financial 401(k), and yet neither truly makes up for the lost time. Catch-up contributions to our Physical 401(k) involve a bit more science, a lot more sweat, and the humility to realize that, as we get older, we don’t necessarily have to “get old.”
- When you look at your daily movement, are you making a deposit or a withdrawal?
- If your fifties are the “stress test” for your eighties, how are you preparing for the exam?
- How might you responsibly leverage modern science to increase your healthspan?
