Living Life Robustly

I got a lot of comments about last week’s column.  Most people were a bit amazed that a man of my age was still doing things like that—riding a mountain bike down steep hills over rocks and roots and traveling around the country doing things outside my comfort zone.  Others just thought I was crazy. 

The first group shouldn’t have been amazed—there were 10 year old kids passing me down the gnarliest hills. And lots of people travel a lot more than I do. The second group…maybe you’re right.  Ask my wife.

So how did I get to this point in life?  To a point where I still pursue a life of vigor and adventure?  I have no idea.  I’ve talked about my dad’s heart problems but I don’t think that is it.  I know that I watched my friend Bo Henry turn his health around at 65, deciding to defy those birthdays and past health problems and live life to its fullest.  He’s almost 90 now and still pretty darn vigorous. 

I look around at people my age and a lot of them are already old.  They act old.  Their pursuits are passive.  Too many friends have those zipper lines on their chest where they’ve had their heart fixed.  I’ve got too many friends that look like they’re just waiting for the end.  Biding their time.

That sure ain’t me.  I get up every morning and make conscious decisions about what I’m going to do that day to remain healthy and able to continue a robust life. 

We know that to keep our mind sharp, we’ve got to continue to keep working it, keep learning new things.  Read books that make us think.   I still want to learn to speak Spanish.  Or French.  I can’t decide. 

I want to paint more, to put colors and meaning on a piece of canvas.  I’ve played several instruments in my life so I might do that again.  Why?  Because I can.  And we know that pursuing those things that stimulate us, that make us live vibrantly, keep us younger. 

Too many people get to a certain age and decide that it is time to slow down.  I call it “rocking chair time.”  That’s not for me.

 I’ve been accused of doing things that a “man my age” has no business doing.  Who made that rule?  Who said that when we get to a certain age, that there were certain activities that are off-limits?  That we have to retire from our job at a certain age?

The President of the United States is 72 years old.  One of the guys I ride bikes with is 68 and winning national championships.  Caroline Haynes is a world class tennis player at 81.

On the other end of the spectrum, two young physical therapists came to me several years ago asking for advice about leadership opportunities in our profession.  They had already been told that they were too young.  Well, those two young PT’s, Josh D’Angelo and Efosa Guobadia didn’t accept that. 

First, they started a campaign called PT Day of Service that quickly went global.  And then they opened a physical therapy clinic in Guatemala and are close to opening another in Rwanda. They are indeed changing the world.

My message?  Don’t let age determine anything.  You’re never too young nor too old.  For me, Medicare-eligible does not mean rocking chair-eligible.  I’m not really trying to prove anything, I’m just trying to live life to its fullest. 

Comfort Zone: Part 2

A couple of weeks ago, I wrote about getting out of your Comfort Zone.  The gist of that one was that if you want to be a better athlete, you’ve got to get outside of your Comfort Zone, to do things that you don’t routinely do.  To push your personal limits. 

I think I also admitted that I pretty much live in my own personal Comfort Zone.  Home.  Job.  Bicycling.  I must tell you that I rarely get out of that Comfort Zone despite recommending it as necessary to avoid thinking the world revolves around you.

Well, I’m here to tell you that I’ve been outside of my Comfort Zone the past two weeks.  First, I was at a meeting in San Diego but then when the meeting was over, I was stuck in San Diego for 24 hours by myself.  My friends had all left.  Folks, I don’t do “alone” well at all. 

I’m not whining but it was way outside my Comfort Zone.   Being in a strange city without anyone that I knew and nothing to do—well that was definitely uncomfortable for me. 

The next day, I left to meet some buddies in Colorado to mountain bike for a week.   You probably know that I spend a lot of time on a road bike and am no stranger to mountain biking but I was with a group where everyone was a much better mountain biker than I am. 

I’m a nervous mountain biker.  I don’t want to wreck but inevitably do.  The first day I did a face plant and sported a spectacular shiner the rest of the week.  I was regularly pushing my physical limits, riding on hills that exceeded my abilities. 

But there is something rewarding about doing something that you don’t think you can do.  Flying down a hill on the back of a bicycle, barely under control, expands my capabilities.  By doing so, I find that I can exceed what I thought were my limits.  I can do more than I thought I could.

We went down a trail that was way beyond my biking abilities on the first day out.  We had ridden along the crest of a ridge at about 11,000 feet above sea level, pushing our physical abilities because folks, there isn’t much oxygen up there.  But it was gorgeous with views that seemed to extend to the end of the world.

But then we turned downhill on a trail called Green Creek and for the next 5 miles rode down a trail that mountain bikers call a rock garden.  Think cobblestones, irregular placed, lots bigger, with no real trail in sight.  I didn’t so much ride it as survive it.  But I did get better along the way. 

I also discovered that I could do this thing called a “Bike Park” where you ride a ski lift up to the top of a really big hill and then ride down that same hill.  Most folks wear body armor which I also found a bit daunting.  I mean, why do you need all those pads and a full-face helmet and all?  I didn’t really plan on wrecking so what was all that for? 

I was terrified.  Riding up the ski life I remember thinking “have you lost your mind?”  Then I discovered how much fun it was.  And I couldn’t get enough of it.  With each trip down, I got better.  I overcame that fear and turned it into a thrill.

That, in a nutshell, is why we have to get outside our Comfort Zone.  To do things that we didn’t think we could do and, in the process, learning more about ourselves. 

Opportunity or Burden?

I’m from that generation of people who grew up in the 60’s that were prone to question everything.  We questioned authority.  We doubted our parents.  And we protested the government (sometimes just for being the government).

It seems we were anti-everything.  Anti-war.  Anti-haircuts.  Anti-fashion.  Anti-establishment. 

Television wouldn’t show Elvis from the waist down because he wiggled to much.  George Carlin came up with his seven words you couldn’t say on TV.  James Dean led a cultural revolution. 

And then the Beatles appeared on the Ed Sullivan show and it really got crazy.  Everybody had long hair.  Everybody protested.  Everybody listened to loud music. 

I was the editor of our high school newspaper and pretty much every issue I snuck in something about the Vietnam War.  It got me called to the principal’s office a couple of times although today it was surely mild. 

The problem was that people that I knew were getting killed and, well, the war wasn’t real popular in my neighborhood.  Poor kids from rural areas got drafted and sent to the front.  Then as now, I was for the soldier but against the war.

Later I got picked up (not really arrested) at an event where we were protesting the completion of the dam on the Little Tennessee River, building what is now Tellico Lake.  I remember that tiny snail darter well.  I knew families that were being forced off farms that had been in their family for generations.

And a beautiful, free-flowing stream was being dammed up to build a resort community that was beyond the means of the people that lived there.  (If you can’t tell, I’m still bitter about that one.)

I was a good kid but I do remember one night when I was arguing with my dad about my music being too loud.  It probably was.  And that my hair was too long.  It really wasn’t. 

But one authority figure that I never questioned was my high school football coach.  His name is Bert “Chig” Ratledge and he turned 90 not too long ago.  He was Coach Ratledge then and he’s Coach Ratledge now.  I can recall hearing his friends call him by that nickname but I considered that blasphemy.

When I went to his 90^th birthday party and heard one (and only one) of my peers refer to him by his nickname, I was greatly disturbed.  Coach Ratledge earned my respect many times over.  He was one of the first people that truly believed in me.  And even though his health has declined, he is still the same person and I would still run through a brick wall for him.  Such is the influence that our coaches have over young folks. 

Coaches have a huge responsibility as they mold and direct their young charges.  Good ones acknowledge and accept that responsibility.  The best ones welcome it as an opportunity. 

For your own kids, seek those coaches that embrace the mantle of that responsibility.  Those coaches that have the best interest of your child and every child at heart.

Then step aside and let them do their job.

Be More than a Spectator

I haven’t watched much World Cup.  Well…none, really.  It’s not that I don’t find it interesting—I actually find it fascinating.

I mean, here’s a sport that is easily the number one sport in the world.  The most participants.  The most spectators.  There’s something special about it, not simply because the rest of the world is soccer crazy.  The international flavor and unabashed nationality make it quite a spectacle.

But I won’t be watching.  It really doesn’t have anything to do with the faked injures that seem to happen in every game (although the athletic trainer in me would be furious if I had an athlete that flopped like that and I ran on the field thinking the worst).  It’s just that it isn’t in me to sit and watch sports much.  Like almost never.  The Super Bowl?  Maybe.  The NBA finals?  Not this year.  The World Series?  It depends.

The Tour de France is going on right now and although I love everything about the bicycle, I won’t be watching much.  When Lance Armstrong was competing, I was glued to my TV set.  Not so much now.  Maybe it was the drugs and scandals and all that but it doesn’t hold quite the draw for me that it once did.  I would rather ride my bike than watch others do it. 

I guess I’m just not much of a spectator.  Never have been.  For many years, I watched my own kids play sports.  When they were younger, I was often their coach.  At first, I wanted to leave that to others.  But there was such a need and the other coaches were just dads like me (or moms) so I jumped right in.

It turned out to be quite rewarding.  I probably got more out of it than the kids.  I hope that I was fair to all and treated everyone equally.  Actually, I know that isn’t true.  I was harder on my own kids than I was on my own.  One embarrassing photo has me scowling at my daughter.  She was probably 8 or 9.  She didn’t deserve that.  She never did. 

I find myself watching grandkids now.  I am much more detached.  I take great joy in just watching them.  Not watching them win.  Not watching them score the winning goal.  Just watching them find joy in sport and movement.

At the youngest ages, the absolute most important thing about sports is that the kids learn to love to move.  The very best player at 6 is not necessarily the very best player at 16.  And we know without a doubt that early sports specialization is a very bad idea for a ton of reasons.

Early specialization increases the injury rate, increases the burnout, and hurts the development of their athleticism.  You want your kids playing lots of different sports.  Again, the emphasis should be on movement.  Active children become active adults.

As for me, I have always preferred to be in the game.  I love my time on the sidelines but I’m working then and part of the team.   I’m not sure what I will do when I do finally give it up.  I don’t think I can sit in the stands.

So where’s this going?  Just this—don’t be a spectator in life.  Don’t let your sports participation be watching the NFL on television.  You don’t have to play on a team or anything like that—just stay active.  Walk, jog, dance, ride a bike, paddle a canoe, something…anything.

Impossible is Nothing

I had the opportunity to speak to a group of physical therapy professionals last week at our national association’s annual meeting.  A friend and I had presented at the same meeting last year on “Finding Your Purpose in Life.”  Our follow-up to that one was this year’s “Impossible is Nothing.”

First, let me say that I don’t have all the answers.  I’m still asking questions.  I truly believe Proust’s advice to beware of the person that has found the Truth.  Instead, embrace the person that seeks the Truth.  I’m not talking about your religion—I won’t go there.  I’m talking about the other mysteries of life.

I have to say that I have lived a blessed life.  I never went hungry growing up.  There was always food of some kind on my table.  I always had a roof over my head.  I was able to attend college and marry a wonderful girl that still puts up with me after 42 years. 

I have a wonderful family, great friends, a job I love, and good health.  But I do know that my life has had its obstacles, many of which I have overcome. 

A couple of weeks ago, I wrote about my dad’s heart condition.  What it meant to me growing up was that there weren’t a lot of things that I got to do with my dad.  And those things I could do were sedentary.  It was more like him watching me do things.

I remember arriving at high school and dreaming of playing football but being told that I wasn’t big enough or fast enough or athletic enough.  Later in high school, I was told by a teacher that “my kind” didn’t go to college.   And then the too-often repeated story of my high school guidance counselor who encouraged me to go to TV repairman school, despite being offered college scholarships.

The reality is that no one in my family had ever gone to college.  Other than one cousin, it took another generation for that to happen again.  And the obstacle of paying for college was very real for us. 

I was told I would never get into physical therapy school.   I changed majors half way through college and let’s just say that my academic performance at that point was well south of stellar. 

But I made it all work.  Just like today, I used dogged persistence to make myself a decent football player.  By dedicating myself to the classroom and studying like I had never studied before, I became a good student.  By working throughout college, at one time holding down three part-time jobs, I was able to graduate twice from college without debt. 

I was admitted to physical therapy school and I do believe I’ve done OK in my 40+ year career.

A friend of mine likes to say that “Obstacles are opportunities.”  Somebody tells you that you can’t?  Prove them wrong.  Use it as motivation.  Look for those Opportunities when faced with Obstacles. 

Too small, too slow, too big, not good enough?  Then examine yourself, decide what your weaknesses are, then turns those weaknesses into your strengths. 

Don’t let anyone define who you are or who you can become.  And don’t let your dreams be so small that you have no trouble achieving them.

No.  Dream big.  Change the world.  And don’t let anybody tell you that you can’t.

The Only One Stopping You Is You!

I’ve been doing a lot more mountain biking lately.  I’m mostly a road biker.  It’s easier and not as dependent on going somewhere to ride.  Out my back door are roads that are perfect.

But the mountain bike is calling to me these days.  Part of it is opportunity.  There are a lot more places to ride mountain bikes around here these days.  It used to be that the only place to ride was Haw Ridge (at the end of Pellissippi Parkway, near Oak Ridge).  It’s still there but there are lots better places to go now.

First among those is the area around Mead’s Quarry in south Knoxville.  The good folks there have built a super system of trails perfect for mountain biking.  And then there’s Baker Creek Preserve.  Oh my.

Baker Creek Preserve is attached to the trails system around Mead’s Quarry and is 100 acres of hills, valleys, and meadowlands.  And multi-use trails.  Built with a Recreation Trails grant from the State of Tennessee to Legacy Parks Foundation, it features something for everyone.  No motorized vehicles are allowed but some of the trails are great for hiking.

Near the entrance is a kids-only beginner bike loop, pump track, and play structures, so it’s the perfect place for a family outing.  The rest of the area is a playground for the older kids.  There are about 7 miles of trails in Baker Creek Preserve with trails ranging from beginner to expert.

And then there are the downhill trails.  Built with a grant awarded by the Bell Helmet company to the Appalachian Mountain Bike Club, these trails are mountain bike only and should only be ridden by experienced riders, properly equipped. 

Three trails take you quickly to the bottom of the hill with banked turns, lots of places to get air, and some special features that will take your breath away. 

Although I haven’t been in a while, there are good trail systems around I.C. King Park and Sharp’s Ridge.  Blount County doesn’t yet have a public-access mountain bike trail system but I would love to see that happen one day.

My message today isn’t as much about mountain biking as it is about living long and well. 

This week, I went mountain biking Dr. Ken Bell.  Dr. Bell is a retired orthopedic surgeon, having been in practice here since 1982.  He’s my mountain biking buddy and we’ve shared many miles of trails, near and far.

Dr. Bell is also an accomplished triathlete, having qualified three years ago for the world championship in the half-Ironman.  He completed his only (so far) Ironman Triathlon at age 65.

But here’s what got me started on all this--Dr. Bell is 68, I’ll soon be 65.  And here we were on the downhill section of a local trail, riding like teenagers, whooping and jumping and having the time of our lives.  I’ll readily admit that I couldn’t keep up with him but as we flew down that hill, it was fun trying.

At one point, we stopped on the side of the trail and talked about how blessed we were to be able to do this stuff and really speculated about how it was that we were still doing this at our advanced age.

We concluded that it was because we had pursued good health our entire lives.  That we stayed fit, kept our weight under control, and made good decisions about our diet and exercise.

Lest you think we’re anything special, Dr. Bell does this on an artificial hip and I take multiple medicines to try and keep my blood pressure under control and stay heart healthy.  I believe the biggest factor in our favor is that we never allowed anyone else to decide what was age-appropriate for us. 

So, should you head out and go careening down a hill on the back of a bike?  Probably not.  But you can hike in the mountains, paddle on the lakes, bike on the Townsend Bike Trail…the list is endless.   The only thing stopping you is you.

The Power of One

I just got back from a short trip to Washington, DC.  I was there to advocate on behalf of physical therapy on some issues that are affecting our patients and our ability to do our job.

I love our nation’s capitol.  I love the monuments and the buildings and the fact that Washington is the center of the government of the most powerful country that ever existed.  It is a really beautiful city.

Just Tuesday morning, I walked between the U.S. Capitol and the Supreme Court Building on my way to a meeting nearby.  Old Union Station was just around the corner.  What a place it must have been when trains were how people moved around the country.

If you’ve never watched the Changing of the Guard at Arlington National Cemetery, then you need to add that to your bucket list.  Watch it and then read about it.

I’ve visited the Vietnam War Memorial and looked for the name of people that I once knew that had died in Vietnam.  It is a somber place, more like a black gash in the National Mall.

This is one of the few trips ever that I didn’t visit Lincoln Memorial.  I love to sit on the steps and talk to Abe about the world he left us and ask him what we need to do.

And the museums. Oh my.  You can spend a week in the museums.  And you can view the actual Constitution of the United States.  You can see all those signatures that you’ve read about.

On a previous trip I visited the Holocaust Museum.  That one was chilling.  A room full of shoes taken from children that were murdered.  You can’t believe it until you see it.  The tools that were used.  You cannot walk away unchanged.

This trip didn’t allow any side trips.  I was there on business.  A bill before congress that would help students deal with the overwhelming cost of higher education.  Legislation to improve access to physical therapy services.  Helping with the opioid crisis.

Now before you think I’ve lost my mind for thinking that I can make a difference, let me tell you a little story. 

In 2007, physical therapists were involved with the state legislature trying to get a bill through in Tennessee that would allow someone to see a physical therapist without a physician referral.  Good, common sense legislation.

The bill was stuck in the House Health Committee mainly because the Chair of that Committee didn’t want to see it pass.  Such is politics. 

Here’s the scenario:  Each week, several of us would travel to Nashville to testify before the Health Committee and each week the Committee Chair would drop us to the bottom of the agenda, which was his prerogative.  This went on for several weeks.

But ONE legislator (who happened to be from the same party as the Committee Chair) who had been treated by ONE physical therapist spoke up on our behalf.  She asked that our bill not be pushed to the bottom once again. 

Her request came to a vote.  The Committee agreed.  That Committee then voted to allow the bill to move on.  It went to the House of Representatives next where it was swiftly passed.

ONE person influenced ONE legislator and now you can see a physical therapist when you need to.

Never underestimate the power of ONE.   The only way we ever get anything done is for someONE to step forward with an idea, a plan, a better way.  That person can be you.  Or me.