Yesterday my wife told me about a picture she took from 10 years ago, in 2015, that Google decided to remind her about.
Allegedly it was me.
What I saw in the picture was some puffy-faced fat guy sitting at an outside table at a bar, holding two babies.
Yeah I took the twins out to the bar all the time when they were babies, so what. They need to know their heritage.
Anyhow, I was stunned and a bit shamed by how sloppy I was back in 2015.
You wouldn’t know it because I don’t talk about it or share pictures of myself, but I’m all shriveled up these days.
I would have weighed somewhere between 85 and 90 kilos (187 – 198 lbs) in the old picture.
My last weigh-in a few days ago had me at 74.5 kilos. In America units that’s ~164 pounds.
I always tell y’all that I am not a big dude by nature. My frame is tiny, with narrow shoulders, long arms and longs relative to my torso, and wrists that I can touch thumb to forefinger.
There’s an even older picture of me, from 2010, with our crew of NZ powerlifters and strongmen. Even weighing 200 pounds at the time, I am the smallest dude in the shot.
The fact that I ever weighed over 220 pounds and pulled 6 wheels back in 2006 mystifies and astounds me.
The last time I weighed what I am now was, no joke, in 2002 when I was 22 years old.
There’s a difference though. This time I’ve got veins showing up in my abs, I’ve got a layer of muscle I didn’t have before, and I’m doing okay on the squat, bench, and deadlift front.
Pain free, too. My chronic issues with exploding joints and muscle tears have conveniently vanished.
I could dare say that, once you factor in overall muscle and body composition, I look the best I’ve ever looked.
I don’t have the horsepower to throw around the mega-weights I used to, that is true. But you know what? I’m turning 46 in a few weeks and I just can’t be bothered to care about what my ego wants to lift.
And anyway, I always told myself back in my 20s that when I got to this point in life, I was going to shift my focus to longevity.
I’ve watched so many people around me decay into non-functional couch-fungus as they let age happen to them. I can almost understand that. What I don’t get is how they always use it as an excuse to complain.
Some of it is unavoidable. Entropy will reap its harvest no matter what we do.
But a lot of it is in our control. A lot of it is lifestyle factors which we can choose and change. No one has to be a passive victim of circumstance.
You know when astronauts go into space, they have to keep up exercise to prevent bone and muscle loss that happens from spending time in in zero gravity. Aging is like that. What youth gives us for free, we have to work for as we get older.
What holds people back is not ability, or knowing what to do, but in the lack of the desire and the will to do it.
There’s a strong element of illusion, delusion, and willing self-deception, too. You get out of shape so gradually that you can’t see how far gone you are.
Learning to be honest and tell yourself the truth may be the hardest part.
Whatever the cause, most folks in my age bracket and older get sucked into an unhappy routine and will fight with all their strength to keep their misery intact.
That’s not the path for me.
I’m turning gray no matter what I do. That doesn’t mean I have to give up and let Father Time have his way with me.
If you’re interested in walking this path with me, learning what I did and how…
…and how I’m still knocking back single-malt scotch, six packs of beer, and blocks of tasty Cadbury chocolate while I do it…
…then you might want to come join me over at the Vital Beyond 40 group.
Matt Perryman