He’s a year older than I am and he damned near won the British Open. I was so stunned, I could hardly watch it. I had taped it and somehow hadn’t heard the results, so I found myself on the couch after teaching a writing workshop watching and cheering and moaning and then, as he was ahead by one shot going into the last hole, sitting in stunned disbelief.
Now understand, I used to play professional golf mostly back in the 1970s, and I even had a dream about trying for the Seniors Tour back a decade ago that ended with me putting far, far worse than that last putt of Tom’s on the 18th green on the 72nd hole. Back then I took lessons from a touring pro, I practiced every day, but the more I practiced, the worse I got and the more frustrated I got, and the worse my putting got until one day it all ended for me with a hard slap of reality. I quit golf, basically, at the age of 49. Sure, I’ve played a bunch since then, and actually really, really enjoy the game. Frustration is gone and I figured out how to solve my putting problems. With a new driver I hit the ball farther and straighter than I ever did in my youth, now pumping them just around the 300 yard distance. Not bad for an old guy at 58, almost 59. And I still have my share of birdies, a ton of pars and far less really ugly holes than I used to have. I have my putting fixed, now putting with my back and shoulders instead of those nasty dead nerves in my hands, and that, honestly, makes things a lot more fun.
But even with all that fixed and the fact that I’m back enjoying the game, I would have never thought that someone a year older than I am could stand up under the stress and pressure of a British Open. As one announcer said, all of the players Tom’s age have already retired from the SENIORS Tour.
But I can tell you that now the idea of running a marathon seems a lot more realistic. In four days Tom Watson walked farther than marathon length, over rolling hills, under intense pressure, making good shot after good shot, and beat everyone in the world but one, and that one he tied in regulation play.
Thank you, Tom, for making it clear to a whole bunch of us old farts out here that sports and physical activity can still be possible, maybe not at the quality and ability you showed, but at our own levels and for our own reasons.
And while Tom was playing that fantastic golf in Scotland, a man in Portland climbed into a Nascar race and got 13th out of 26. He was 81 years old.
Can I run a marathon at the age of 60? Sure. I now have no doubts. Thanks, Tom.
Down three pounds since my last post and doing fine. Buying new pants will be required shortly.
Cheers, Dean
As long as you’re not buying pants from the John Daly fall collection, this is a good thing.
Back when I was training to run a marathon, I was working in a doctor’s office as a PA-C, and I came across an article on fitness in one of the medical magazines. (Running and jogging hadn’t become such a major activity yet, this was thirty-five years ago — Runner’s World had only two pages of shoes in its training gear round-up.
I recall we had a serious runner come in for an exam and his heart rate was so low, around 42 b/m, the doctors were ready to stick him in the hospital — sinus bradycardia being a sign of all kinds of bad things. I mentioned that porpoise-heart was a good thing and a side effect of serious aerobic training — none of them knew that.
The magazine piece said, that if you started out with a healthy circulatory system and ran marathons, you’d pretty much be immune to heart attacks. Their reasoning was that the ability to run marathons carried with it some general considerations — you’d tend to eat better, drink less alcohol, etc., in order to be able to do the training, and that you’d build pipes that just wouldn’t clog.
The fun part was, the writer said, that if you could *walk* twenty-six miles at any pace, and the pump and plumbing weren’t already damaged (ala Jim Fixx), that would also make you proof against an MI.
Of course this isn’t absolute — there are other risk factors about which you can’t do much, genetics being at the top of the list. But you can shade the odds heavily in your favor.
Glad to hear that you are going to do it, Dean. Too many writers I know have dropped dead lately and some of them could have taken a lot better care of themselves.
What you may find, even at your best fighting weight, is that your joints might be a bit creaky. Not to say it can’t be done, but it requires more care for a man your age than when you were twenty-five and bulletproof …
Get a good pair of running shoes, replace the insole inserts with the best athletic ones you can find — usually these are some combination of gel and rubber — or consider moulded orthotics. Warm up before, stretch after, the usual, and have a fall-back plan if you get a knee or ankle or foot injury. Bicycle in your town, you’d have enough hills to work you pretty good off the main drag, and not nearly the stress on the lower body joints.
These days, I have to get in shape to get in shape …
Steve
Wow, Dino–good for you. Based solely on my doctor’s insistence that I was on the edge of having diabetes, and the fact that at one point last year I *weighed as much as Jon Gustafson used to*, I started losing weight. (Remember how different we used to look, size-wise? Scary, eh?)
I have lost 32 pounds in 10+ months, and am still losing; I’m beginning to walk daily with Lynne, and I’m eating very healthily and about 1/3 to 1/2 of what I ate a year ago. No sugar (or tiny amounts), ditto sodium, fat and cholesterol.
I cook for both of us, mostly, since giving up looking for jobs, and I cook very healthy meals.
My hips hurt occasionally when walking; I’ve had a bad back since 1969, but only get twinges now and again. But maybe I can get healthy enough to do some running too.
Good job, my friend.
And BTW–nice article on the sacred cows, especially the one-line condensation of how each writer is different.
–Steve
Thanks, Steve. Not sure why ten-fifteen years ago I took up the hobby of sitting and eating. Now the less I eat, the better I feel, and the more I move around, the better I feel, and the more pounds I lose, the better I feel. A wonderful feedback loop that I am actually paying attention to.
When I ran my first marathon, I was going out with a nurse who worked in a heart unit. I stopped by one night to pick her up and she had no one in the unit, was just sitting and waiting for her replacement to come in. So she strapped me into one of the heart monitors and the first words out of her mouth were, “Holy smokes, you’re dead.” My heart beat was so slow, she was stunned, but I was thin and in top shape. I was at 44 b/m. Now, with the years of sitting and eating and all the extra weight, it’s at 90-95. Time to get that down as well. I’ve lost over 40 pounds so far, about that much left to go to get to running weight.
Cheers
Dean
Agree completely. Kris and I have two machines, one is an elliptical and another is a treadmill, so I can train on those, and walks on the beach are soft on the old joints, but tough on knees. I’m going to be buying new running shoes every few months as well, taking no chances. And I really won’t ramp up the miles until I drop another 15 pounds, just to be really safe on that aspect. I expect to have some injuries. Nature of the beast and the age.
One nice thing is that we have a fairly flat sort of “track” up here on the hill about 1/10 of a mile around, and that helps as well. It’s half gravel, half pavement, so between that and the beach and the hills around here, I should be ready for the flat course of the marathon.
But wow, are you right about having to get in shape to get in shape. I’ve already lost well over 40 pounds just to get ready to get ready to do this.
Cheers
Dean