I had an interesting and emotional conversation with my uncle the other day.
My favorite uncle, Bob, entered the gym looking depressed. I sensed something was amiss, especially since my dad had texted me beforehand, advising me to be understanding with him.
Uncle Bob, a lifelong surfer from the age of six, typically fearless in tackling waves over 10 feet high, seemed subdued. When I inquired about his demeanor, he confided, “I can’t surf anymore; I can’t even get to my feet.”
Even a relatively small wave proved challenging for him during a recent outing with my dad. Approaching his late 60s, I vividly recalled his first visit to my gym three years ago, his limping gait marking the beginning of his fitness journey.
(photo: Kindel Media)
His initial goal was simply to walk without the hindrance of his drop foot. Alongside this, he battled aggressive arthritis in both knees, severe cartilage loss, recovery from major back surgery, and the daily grind of prolonged desk work.
The pivotal question he asked me sparked the reflection leading to this month’s column: “Why should I continue working out if I can’t surf?”
His inquiry transported me back to a previous encounter with a woman who lamented her lack of weight loss after two months of exercise. It struck me how individuals often fixate on outcomes beyond their control, disregarding the importance of the process.
In response to my uncle’s query, I offered, “You have a nine-year-old daughter; you need to be able to walk her down the aisle on her wedding day.”
This revelation struck a chord with him and grounded him in his familial responsibilities. Emphasizing the positive impact of his workouts on his joints, tendons, ligaments, muscles, and overall well-being, I highlighted the genuine gratitude his body and mind feel post-exercise.
Following medical advice, many new members aged 50 and older gravitate towards resistance training to enhance lean muscle mass—a journey easily facilitated by joining a gym or hiring a coach.
Our conversation continued, unfurling a thread of personal transformation. Too often, we neglect to look back at our beginnings. I recounted his initial hesitant steps into our gym, marked by an obvious limp. A modest bench press of 155 pounds in his first year blossomed into multiple repetitions at 185 pounds and a pinnacle of 225 pounds three years later.
At 67, my uncle embodies resilience and strength, a testament to his commitment to prioritizing his health.
To all those disheartened by perceived setbacks—failed endeavors, missed opportunities—pause and reflect on your journey. Are you the same person who embarked on this path? Did you wholeheartedly embrace the process? What triumphs emerged from your efforts?
For my uncle, a disciplined routine of five hours of weekly exercise over three years culminated in enhanced strength and vitality, enriching his life for the sake of his family. While surfing may no longer be within reach, the vision of him proudly escorting his daughter down the aisle stands as his reason for continuing to work out. spt
