The old adage might not always speak truth, but it can speak to how we view our goals, our life’s transitions and our health.
We’ve all heard the saying, “Getting old is just a state of mind.” Or how about the one that tells us “we can do anything if we want it badly enough”? And what do we think when we hear a young millennial flatter us with the words, “You look great for your age”?
Do we register these expressions as true inspiration when we hear them? Do we tell ourselves that yes, we are capable of anything—that age is just a number—or is that merely another overheated cliché? Do we see these statements as empty compliments meant to make us feel better about ourselves, or as genuine calls to action?
I’m 68 years old. I’ve heard those statements many times over the past few years, around the time I went on Medicare and joined the Social Security squadron. “My, I can’t believe you are that old …” is a line that actually makes me wonder if I’m a bit more ancient than I already am.
As we go through life’s constant transitions—changes that are not limited by age or by someone else’s definition of what we should be and feel at a certain stage—there is value in considering what those transitions mean. We can take these patronizing comments as positives, or as building blocks toward a happier, more confident maturity.
For me, that focus has centered on fitness as I mature—an area my younger self would have scoffed at, believing it simply wasn’t in my DNA to exercise like heavily built or elite athletes. Exercise in my 60s has grounded me and led me to levels of confidence and ability I never would have expected. It has also brought me a better social life, communing with other “grunts” like me who overcame the mental stress involved in participating in group fitness classes or joining a running or biking club.
But I also know that not everyone can tap into exercise endorphins as easily as I do—whether because of lack of time, a nagging physical ailment, limited access to facilities, or simply procrastination and the gap between intention and action.
That’s where I want to go today: reaching those who feel frustrated when they hear “anyone can do anything at any age” and instinctively roll their eyes. We all face different realities at different times in our lives, some of which limit what we can do for our bodies or our minds. And this isn’t confined to older adults. Those with young children are frequently hamstrung by responsibilities far removed from personal betterment. Many of us have faced other challenges—physical, financial, or personal—that are more urgent and cannot be ignored.
It’s similar to being a journalist (my background, by the way) at a local newspaper and constantly being told you should write the great American novel. Lord knows I’ve heard that one from hundreds of well-meaning people. Or that now that I’m retired, I should start a consulting business to maintain a strong income stream.
In either case, pursuing those ideas takes more than simply wanting to do them. It often requires years of work to make that kind of high ceiling transition—especially when you may not even have a clear concept or plan in place. At that point, those encouraging remarks become empty words, a glass ceiling made of the hardest, most tempered material.
That’s the point I want to make today. You don’t always need to listen to others telling you what’s best for your future. You don’t need to hear that you can do anything with just a little practice, or that you’re remarkable for your age and must continue to defy the odds.
We can look to the ancients for perspective. Homer’s Greek hero Odysseus, while striving to sail home from Troy, faced foes who not only battled him physically but also tried to seduce him with false confidence and complacency. Homer wrote that “words empty as the wind are best left unsaid.”
Unfortunately, such words are rarely left unsaid—especially by those hoping to make a mature adult feel good. Here’s what I believe instead: rather than dismissing every patronizing remark, take what resonates and discard the rest. You don’t need to be the one who moves mountains or accomplishes the extraordinary just to prove a point. You don’t need to burden yourself with the anxiety of living up to other people’s expectations.
I’ve written previously about the transition I went through after a physically traumatic event and how I relied on inner grit and a belief that I was capable of more than what others might expect from a heart attack survivor. My motivation was entirely intrinsic, not dependent on outside voices—many of them from people who did not know me well. I kept only the words that benefited me and let the rest fall away.
Let me close with a story.
A young Japanese man, the son of a forester in a remote region of the island, was struck with pleurisy at age 16. Sickly throughout his childhood, he missed long stretches of school. His diagnosis later progressed to tuberculosis, and he changed schools five times before graduating.
That young man was Yuichiro Miura.
Despite his health struggles, Miura yearned for the outdoors and winter sports, even while working as a hotel porter. He turned to alpine skiing and speed skating, eventually winning competitions and opening a ski school. As he aged, he was told to slow down. Instead, he shifted his ambition from skiing to climbing Mount Everest, which he climbed in his 70th year with his son at his side. He reached the summit again at 75.
Injuries followed. He battled heart arrhythmia and broke his pelvis in five places at age 76. Still, in 2013, Miura became the oldest person to reach the summit of Mount Everest at age 80.
Even in his 90s—after suffering a cerebral hematoma and undergoing pacemaker surgery—Miura climbed to the summit of Mount Fuji using a specially designed wheelchair.
Miura has written extensively about overcoming adversity and cultivating internal motivation. He once said that even if he had died climbing Mount Everest, he would have died having lived a full life. As he wrote, “I’ve learned through my own experiences that working toward an objective in your life can change who you are.”
That, ultimately, should be a goal for all of us. Some of us may never climb higher than our own staircase, but what keeps us strong and fulfilled is having goals—and moving toward them little by little. We may not be able to do everything we want in life, but we can still allow ourselves to dream.
Joe Pryweller is a longtime fitness advocate who has finished close to 20 half marathons, a full marathon and a Hyrox competition in his 60s and has worked with others on their fitness journeys. He also survived a heart attack in 2015 and has used that experience to motivate himself and others to reach fitness goals. He is working toward a Certified Personal Trainer license through the National Academy of Sports Medicine and is setting up a motivational and exercise coaching business called Next Chapter Strength that will be accepting clients in summer 2026. Joe also is a professional journalist who writes articles on fitness-related topics.