by Likewise, my mother’s cycling adventures served as their own flashing display. Every pedal stroke uphill was a subliminal cry that she was strong. Every downhill leap of her heart told him she was brave and fun. Every new route she planned proved that she was capable. She was immersed in implicit feedback that disrupted what she (and others) had been told one could and could not do or be at that age.
Most older women do not join cycling groups. Instead, we begin to stop doing physical activities, taking risks, or doing novel activities. Too dangerous for our weakened body and mind, we are told both subliminally and overtly, and we believe it. But what if the danger lies in failure? Seeking euphoria, exploration and physical vitality?
Unknowingly, my mother knew: these attributes do not endanger us. They protect us.
Activating euphoria, exploration and physical vitality will be different for each of us. In my quest to understand healthy aging. I met a 93-year-old hiker, a 74-year-old BMX rider, an 80-year-old scuba diver, and a bunch of boogie boarders in their 60s, 70s, and 80s. I walked on the wing of an airplane at 3,000 feet. But I also went bird watching. It turns out that adventure is in the eye of the beholder and almost all of us can experience it, despite physical restrictions, financial limitations, or limited knowledge of the field.
Over and over again, these women told me in different ways: Choose an outdoor activity, one that excites you and draws you in, because it will change your life. To those who warn against such nonsense, remind them of what Joan Captain, a player in one of San Diego’s senior women’s soccer leagues, He told a journalist when he was 72 years old: “People say, oh, that’s very dangerous, you know, you should take it easy. And I say, well, do you see that couch over there? The couch will kill you.”
My mother only stopped riding a bike when she was approaching 80 years old. She had begun to feel unstable on her bike; She was soon diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease. So at some point, the message has some truth. But this is not discouraging. This is just one more reason to accept it all now. I’m sure my mother would still be pedaling if it weren’t for this stroke of bad luck. Instead, she goes out as she can, often taking a walk around her neighborhood. On a recent walk, she felt nostalgic, but not because of her youth. “I wish she were 60 again,” she reflected, and we slowly continued down the sidewalk.
