My father was born in 1922 and said he had done enough exercise by the time he was 24.
He was a normal kid, running around, competing in school sports, but not training for them. He was a sprinter and did okay, but no long runs for him.
^ At a school camp aged 15
He was drafted when he turned 18 and spent the next five years in the army. He did the usual army stuff, marching, digging holes, and then filling them in.
He served overseas for two years and, after a stint in Italy, went to Japan in the occupation force, where he caught tuberculosis. On his return to New Zealand, he spent 10 months in a sanatorium and had a lung collapsed for two years to assist with recovery.
^ Helping my grandfather build his house aged 25
After that, he vowed not to exercise.
He had done his bit, and it was all over by the time he was 24.
He had health issues due to the TB, and the family moved to the dry climate of Australia. When he retired aged 69, my parents moved back to New Zealand.
He did a bit of walking, but it was incidental in getting the groceries from a supermarket that was 400 m away.
So, he did very little exercise for his last 74 years. Never ran, swam, or lifted weights.
Despite that, he was mostly healthy until his final three weeks, when pneumonia set in at age 98.
He survived his entire cohort. All the more accomplished athletes, his friends, his wife, and a whole bunch of people who were a generation younger.
Here is my guess at what kept his heart ticking on.
He never smoked, in an era where everyone did. That had to be a big part.
He kept his weight in check. He wasn’t skinny, but he was never in the overweight category.
He radiated relentless positivity. I never saw him angry. He just excused people for “having a bad day”. People liked him.
He drank a solitary glass of wine about once a month. He vacuum-sealed the bottle if he couldn’t give it away to his dinner companions.
He spoke to people somewhere every day. Not for long, unless it was one of his buddies.
He kept out of the sun, which is important in New Zealand and Australia, where the ozone hole and pure skies allow considerably more UV light.
He usually ate a healthy Mediterranean diet that he prepared himself. We kids always joked that he ate much better than we did.
He ate two chunks of chocolate every day. Complete discipline. A bar would last him more than a week. He would eat one biscuit when with company, to be polite.
He always had projects, all sedentary, such as writing and reading.
Most importantly, he was super lucky.
So, his exercise was limited and was just living life. He tended to walk for 15 minutes rather than drive, and it helped that he lived close to the centre of town so his legs could do the work
^ Aged 83 with my mother
^ Aged 98, walking outside was enough exercise for the day
I read a lot written by people in their 40s or younger telling people that attendance at a gym is imperative. Protein levels need to be kept high. Supplements. And a whole bunch of other advice.
On the other hand, I see what worked for my father.
Two rules.
Moderation. A positive attitude.
Doesn’t seem hard.
source:www.quora.com
