Still Lifting in My 70s: What 35 Years in the Game Taught Me
People hear I'm in my seventies and still competing in bodybuilding, and they look at me like I've told them I've been to the moon. "Aren't you worried about your joints?" they ask, usually while reaching for another biscuit. Reader, my joints are fine. It's the biscuits I'd worry about.
I've been at this for thirty-five years. I've won a few trophies, lost a few too, and learned more from the losses than the wins — which is the sort of wise thing you're allowed to say once you've got grey chest hair. So when Tracy asked if I'd share a few thoughts on her blog, I thought, why not. Somebody ought to tell you lot the truth.
Nobody is too old. Stop using that one.
Let's get this out of the way. I am older than most of the equipment in any gym I walk into, and I'm still adding weight to the bar. The idea that fitness has a sell-by date is the single biggest lie people tell themselves. Your muscles don't check your birth certificate before they decide whether to grow. They respond to being trained. That's it. That's the secret. You're welcome.
Do I train differently than I did at 35? Of course. I warm up properly now instead of treating it as optional, I listen when something twinges, and I'd rather lift sensibly for another twenty years than lift like a hero and spend next week on the sofa. But the principle hasn't changed a bit.
The stuff that actually matters (after 35 years of finding out)
I could write you a book, but here's the short version I'd give anyone over a cup of tea:
- Consistency beats intensity. The blokes I started with who trained like maniacs are mostly long gone. The ones who just kept turning up are still here. Showing up beats showing off, every time.
- Recovery is training. I used to think rest days were for the weak. Now I know they're when the magic actually happens. Sleep is a performance enhancer and it's free.
- You can't out-train a bad diet. I've tried. It doesn't work. It really doesn't work in your seventies.
- Form first, ego last. Lifting a weight you can't control isn't strength, it's a future hospital visit with extra steps.
Why I still bother
Honestly? Because I love it. Because I can carry my own shopping, get off the floor without making the noise, and keep up with people half my age — which never stops being funny. And because the gym, for me, has always been the one place where the only person you're really competing with is the version of yourself from last week.
You don't stop training because you get old. You get old because you stop training. I didn't make that up, but I've spent thirty-five years proving it right.
So if you're sat there thinking you've left it too late — from one old codger who's still chasing trophies, you haven't. Get a good coach, leave your ego at the door, and start. I'll see you in there. I'll be the one getting on with it. Old habits.