What Could Possibly Go Wrong?
Hi, I'm Russ.
I'm a British bloke living in Thailand who, at 61 years of age and despite all available evidence (and <ahem> ‘wisdom’) suggesting I should know better by now, is still finding new ways to challenge himself…
…and by challenge I mean unintentionally doing all those things you really shouldn’t be doing when you surpass that magical 40 mark and supposedly become sensible, let alone 2+ decades on!
Long gone are the days of falling of a cliff face or out of a tree (I hope).
Rather it's more of injuring your back and putting yourself out for 2-3 months from simply bending down to roll up the exercise mat you have just spent the last 30 minutes doing DDP yoga on to try and prevent/offset the very injury you’ve just triggered! (Yep, that really happened to me. Oh, the irony!)
Strong After Sixty is where I document that journey.
The training, the setbacks, the experiments, the occasional successes, and the many occasions where reality just rears its head and bites you in the a**.
It's not a fitness site in the traditional sense. (Far from it.)
I'm not a coach or trainer (yet, but I am working towards it), influencer, goo-rooo, or any of the other labels the internet seems particularly fond of.
I'm simply someone who decided that in this current stage of my life, the following two were hitting home:
1. Getting older didn't automatically mean becoming less capable.
2. I really needed to pull my finger out.
Just the One Wafer Thin Biscuit Today, Sir?
My main problem is I’ve always enjoyed a beer.
But sadly it's never been just the one.
Indeed, when the battalion went on a 6-month tour to South Armagh some years ago, we were 'allowed' 2 beers a day.
(And these were the half-pint cans, not the 3/4 larger ones.)
I didn't see the point of it.
If you're thirsty, drink water.
If you want a beer, as Liam Gallagher, the Oasis frontman said, "Go out for one beer? What's the point? If I'm going out, I want a 'undred!"
Quite.
So I didn't bother and only had a few before I went home on the long-weekend leave each of us had.
Before that, though, the NAAFI sessions in the British Army…
Well, I doubt there's a better training ground: "Six beers down; watch and shoot, watch and shoot..."
And it often could, and did, get messy!
Even when I got out of the mob, started working on the rigs, and then joined the local rugby club, it was more of the same.
In fact, as a forward, in the club bar after, single-figure beers meant you’d not only be publicly shamed but might also be threatened with being demoted to the backs the following game!
Sadly, though I can still polish off half-a-dozen or so without any real issues, the body’s kickback is a little more severe than it used to be.
High blood pressure, blood sugar levels that mountain ranges would be proud of, as well as piling on the pounds.
Let's face it, your rugby mates don't give you the nickname ‘Hungry Horace’ because you're putting away cucumber sandwiches, a couple of lettuce leaves, and the odd pickled onion!
Suffice it to say, having a few beers was known to tickle the tastebuds somewhat.
So we are where we are, and that's right here, right now. 😀
Being open and honest, though it's easy to say enough was enough, I've also said that before too.
A few years back (and several times since).
A month here, a couple of weeks there, and then it’s ‘situation normal’ and back on it.
This time, though, I’m determined to make it happen. I also feel confident about it.
Why?
Because for the first time, with this very site--and the fact you're reading this now--I’ve gone public with it.
That’s the start of my accountability.
Accountability to me, to my wife, to friends and family, and, of course, if you decide to follow, to you, too.
Again, I don’t have all the answers. Far from it.
All I’m going to do is:
- What I think will work for me.
- What I enjoy doing.
What happens next remains to be seen.
