Aging Gracefully: Why Running is for Every Age

“Not Permission to Be a Slacker”
People hear I’m in my sixties and still running, and they say things like, “Oh, good for you, but you don’t have to push it anymore.” Excuse me? Getting older is NOT permission to be a slacker!
Yeah, I’m slower, sure. But slower doesn’t mean stop. Slower just means I get more value for my entry fee—I’m out on the course longer than you! Who’s laughing now? You finish in two hours and go home to mow the lawn. I finish in three and a half and get a police escort because they’re trying to reopen the road. That’s VIP treatment!
People tell me, “Listen to your body.” I do. Every morning it says: “Ouch. Pop. Crack.” And then I tell it right back: “Thanks for the feedback—now lace up, because these miles aren’t going to run themselves.”
And let’s be clear… rest is one thing, slacking is another. Rest is taking a nap after a long run. Slacking is taking a nap after a long sandwich. And I’ve done both. One is recovery. The other is how you end up with mustard on your shirt and no idea what happened to Tuesday.
I’ll take easy days, sure. But you’ve gotta earn them! You don’t get to sit on the couch all week and call it “tapering.” That’s not tapering—that’s Netflix.
And don’t get me started on “active recovery.” You ever hear that term? That’s just exercise in disguise. “I’m not working out, I’m doing yoga with goats.” Buddy, if you’re sweating and something’s chewing your shoelaces, that’s cardio.
The truth is, training still works. Even in old age. You put in the effort, the body adapts. You can still get stronger, still get fitter. The PRs might be gone, but the progress isn’t. And if you slack off? Well, then you just get slower… at a faster rate.
And believe me—I know about humiliation. At the Turkey Trot last year, I got passed at mile three by a pilgrim. Full costume. Buckled shoes, floppy hat, black coat straight off the Mayflower. This man looked like he was on his way to sign the Magna Carta.
But the worst? Two minutes later, I hear this noise behind me: “Gobble, gobble, gobble!” I turn around—and it’s not another runner. It’s a dog. In a turkey suit. That’s right… and the dog is gobbling. Or maybe it was the owner. Either way, a Labrador in feathers went by me like I was standing still. Do you understand the shame of being toasted… by a dog dressed as a turkey? I didn’t just get passed—I got gobbled at. That dog heckled me!
So no—aging is not an excuse to quit. It’s a reason to keep going. Every run, every mile, is proof we’re not done yet.
And if I ever do stop running, it won’t be because I got lazy. It’ll be because I physically can’t. And trust me, when that day comes, I’ll still be yelling ‘On your left!’ in the nursing home hallway with my walker.
Because honestly—getting passed by a pilgrim and a turkey-dog doesn’t mean you lost the race. It just means you’ve got the funniest Thanksgiving story at the table.
…And don’t even ask what happened when Mrs. Clause passed me at the Christmas race.”

Richard Swika Designs

Not Permission to Be a Slacker

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Not Permission to Be a Slacker

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