Nick14
Guru
Not to get too philosophical on a casual boating forum.... no one likes to admit that we're getting older, because it's a reminder of what's to come. The sad but unavoidable fact is that everything ends in life, including life itself. So far, no one has gotten out of life alive. That's the way it is.
There's a balance between trying to keep a positive attitude (albeit that's been tough lately, with little irritations like a global pandemic), and being realistic. It's funny to me to hear all the rationalizations, excuses, and cognitive dissonance from people who try to pretend they're not aging. 60 is not the new 40 (nor is 80 the new 60, or whatever math you want to use). Age might be just a 'number', but the physical condition of our body is what it is. A person can pretend they're not as old as they are with clothing, actions, state of mind, etc., but the only person they are kidding is themselves (though sometimes that is also mostly all that matters).
Being in my mid 60's, over the past decade I've felt the inescapable realities of a body that is no longer what it was. @Tator, I've had two ventricular tachycardias over the past few years, and subsequent cardiac ablation surgery (only partially successful). It's quite a wake-up call and bucket of ice-cold water in the face dose of reality to be lying there in the ER while the infamous 'paddles' are charging, having a couple of jolts with no effect, and hearing the attending physician order the setting increased to maximum, wondering if I'm going to walk out today, or not. Likewise, joint injuries and creeping arthritis are daily reminders that a mid-60's body just can't do what it did in mid-20's (or even mid-50's for that matter)(in college I used to ride my bike 300-400 miles a week, and a 100 mile century ride was an easy weekly thing; now 20 miles is often the limit). When I try, I just hurt myself, cause another injury, and end up back in the ER with something broken or sprained (like last week) because I did something that just wasn't possible for this body to do anymore.
Very few people feel like they're aging. When we look in the mirror in the morning, we rarely see a change from the day before. Each day, we think we look exactly the same as we did yesterday (and from one day to the next, we probably do). Extrapolate that out over decades, and it's easy to fool yourself into thinking, 'Everyone else is getting older, but I'm not!'.
I fell victim to that self-delusional line of thinking for a while as well. Along the way I had a few little reminders that it was nonsense. A few years ago I saw two coworkers, a few months apart, who I hadn't seen in about 20 years. Each time, their first reaction when we got together was, 'Oh my God, are you OK? Have you been sick? What happened to you? Have you had cancer? Can I help you get up?' No, they weren't joking. They were simply taken aback at how I'd changed over 20 years, whereas I foolishly thought, hell, I look the same as when I last saw them. I clearly didn't.
When my mother passed away, I found some old college and grad school era photos of myself in the piles in the basement. When I held them up to the mirror while looking at myself 'live', it was hard to tell it was the same person.
Those, my friends, are the sad and unavoidable realities of life, as distressing as they may be. Everyone ages at a different rate, sometimes with very different paths. Lifestyle and especially genetics play a big role. One my my wife's cousins is 95 and we can't keep up with her walking the streets of Manhattan. Another cousin was still riding a bike and playing tennis up until 93. But those are exceptions. We live in a society where media and expectations pressure us to feel like we can 'do it all' and 'have it all' and 'be everything'. But not everyone can be an outlier.
It's great to be 'young at heart'. But the body doesn't necessarily follow. We can (and often maybe should!) push ourselves so as not to make aging a self-fulfilling proposition. But I completely agree with @Hippocampus. We need to be realistic. Life and the world around us live in reality. We must as well. It's one thing for me to do something stupid in the yard and break a rib. It's another to do things that can endanger the safety and lives of others, such as the heart-breaking story you told. But we are responsible not just to ourselves, but the harm our actions might cause to others. Some physical deficits can turn a boat into a deadly weapon.
We often hear sad stories of people having to take the car keys away from an aging parent when it's apparent they can no longer safely drive. The same applies to boats.
Some people like to say 'I still feel like I'm 21!'. Good for them. Being 41 and dressing like a 21 year old is terrific - we should care what we think about ourselves, not what random strangers might think. It's far healthier to have a positive, upbeat attitude than to curl up into a fetal position and moan while waiting for the journey's end. But it should be tempered with a dose of reality, lest you try to do something you shouldn't and then pay the price, small (like I did last week) or big.
I'm searching for my 14th boat over the past 51 years. It will almost certainly be my last. The thoughts have crossed my mind of when the time will come when I just won't be able to do it, or at least won't be able to enjoy it anymore. Barring a traumatic accident or sudden illness, most changes come gradually, which is why they're sometimes hard to spot and easy to ignore. A little more soreness in the lower back, a bit more stiffness after washing the boat down (or a blown knee twisted on a railing while rushing to dock... ask me how I know).
I don't think there are any absolute or 'right' answers. It's different for each person. We're all aging at different rates, with different respective creeping infirmities, and widely varying levels of tolerance for discomfort. FWIW, I love @gsholz's suggestions for features that make a boat easier to handle as one's abilities become more limited. Things like easy machinery access, walk-around side decks, and no teak to maintain are exactly what I'm looking for. @backinblue, I completely agree with your thoughts too, of paying people to do more things. I used feel satisfaction to wax my boat myself. Now it's just the start of 3 days of higher doses of naproxen.
As others have opined, the 'answer' (whatever it may be) is unique to each of us, and I think is, keep doing it for as long as it's still enjoyable and brings more pleasure than pain, with the caveat of not endangering others.
@FWT, thank you, for reminding me of those inspirational words by Dylan Thomas. His words, and yours, may be the best wisdom of all.
There's a balance between trying to keep a positive attitude (albeit that's been tough lately, with little irritations like a global pandemic), and being realistic. It's funny to me to hear all the rationalizations, excuses, and cognitive dissonance from people who try to pretend they're not aging. 60 is not the new 40 (nor is 80 the new 60, or whatever math you want to use). Age might be just a 'number', but the physical condition of our body is what it is. A person can pretend they're not as old as they are with clothing, actions, state of mind, etc., but the only person they are kidding is themselves (though sometimes that is also mostly all that matters).
Being in my mid 60's, over the past decade I've felt the inescapable realities of a body that is no longer what it was. @Tator, I've had two ventricular tachycardias over the past few years, and subsequent cardiac ablation surgery (only partially successful). It's quite a wake-up call and bucket of ice-cold water in the face dose of reality to be lying there in the ER while the infamous 'paddles' are charging, having a couple of jolts with no effect, and hearing the attending physician order the setting increased to maximum, wondering if I'm going to walk out today, or not. Likewise, joint injuries and creeping arthritis are daily reminders that a mid-60's body just can't do what it did in mid-20's (or even mid-50's for that matter)(in college I used to ride my bike 300-400 miles a week, and a 100 mile century ride was an easy weekly thing; now 20 miles is often the limit). When I try, I just hurt myself, cause another injury, and end up back in the ER with something broken or sprained (like last week) because I did something that just wasn't possible for this body to do anymore.
Very few people feel like they're aging. When we look in the mirror in the morning, we rarely see a change from the day before. Each day, we think we look exactly the same as we did yesterday (and from one day to the next, we probably do). Extrapolate that out over decades, and it's easy to fool yourself into thinking, 'Everyone else is getting older, but I'm not!'.
I fell victim to that self-delusional line of thinking for a while as well. Along the way I had a few little reminders that it was nonsense. A few years ago I saw two coworkers, a few months apart, who I hadn't seen in about 20 years. Each time, their first reaction when we got together was, 'Oh my God, are you OK? Have you been sick? What happened to you? Have you had cancer? Can I help you get up?' No, they weren't joking. They were simply taken aback at how I'd changed over 20 years, whereas I foolishly thought, hell, I look the same as when I last saw them. I clearly didn't.
When my mother passed away, I found some old college and grad school era photos of myself in the piles in the basement. When I held them up to the mirror while looking at myself 'live', it was hard to tell it was the same person.
Those, my friends, are the sad and unavoidable realities of life, as distressing as they may be. Everyone ages at a different rate, sometimes with very different paths. Lifestyle and especially genetics play a big role. One my my wife's cousins is 95 and we can't keep up with her walking the streets of Manhattan. Another cousin was still riding a bike and playing tennis up until 93. But those are exceptions. We live in a society where media and expectations pressure us to feel like we can 'do it all' and 'have it all' and 'be everything'. But not everyone can be an outlier.
It's great to be 'young at heart'. But the body doesn't necessarily follow. We can (and often maybe should!) push ourselves so as not to make aging a self-fulfilling proposition. But I completely agree with @Hippocampus. We need to be realistic. Life and the world around us live in reality. We must as well. It's one thing for me to do something stupid in the yard and break a rib. It's another to do things that can endanger the safety and lives of others, such as the heart-breaking story you told. But we are responsible not just to ourselves, but the harm our actions might cause to others. Some physical deficits can turn a boat into a deadly weapon.
We often hear sad stories of people having to take the car keys away from an aging parent when it's apparent they can no longer safely drive. The same applies to boats.
Some people like to say 'I still feel like I'm 21!'. Good for them. Being 41 and dressing like a 21 year old is terrific - we should care what we think about ourselves, not what random strangers might think. It's far healthier to have a positive, upbeat attitude than to curl up into a fetal position and moan while waiting for the journey's end. But it should be tempered with a dose of reality, lest you try to do something you shouldn't and then pay the price, small (like I did last week) or big.
I'm searching for my 14th boat over the past 51 years. It will almost certainly be my last. The thoughts have crossed my mind of when the time will come when I just won't be able to do it, or at least won't be able to enjoy it anymore. Barring a traumatic accident or sudden illness, most changes come gradually, which is why they're sometimes hard to spot and easy to ignore. A little more soreness in the lower back, a bit more stiffness after washing the boat down (or a blown knee twisted on a railing while rushing to dock... ask me how I know).
I don't think there are any absolute or 'right' answers. It's different for each person. We're all aging at different rates, with different respective creeping infirmities, and widely varying levels of tolerance for discomfort. FWIW, I love @gsholz's suggestions for features that make a boat easier to handle as one's abilities become more limited. Things like easy machinery access, walk-around side decks, and no teak to maintain are exactly what I'm looking for. @backinblue, I completely agree with your thoughts too, of paying people to do more things. I used feel satisfaction to wax my boat myself. Now it's just the start of 3 days of higher doses of naproxen.
As others have opined, the 'answer' (whatever it may be) is unique to each of us, and I think is, keep doing it for as long as it's still enjoyable and brings more pleasure than pain, with the caveat of not endangering others.
@FWT, thank you, for reminding me of those inspirational words by Dylan Thomas. His words, and yours, may be the best wisdom of all.
