[gardener]

At almost 70 years of age, I am not entirely happy with my body. Three different kinds of ailments afflict my feet. I’ve had one nasty tryst with sciatica. I’d like to get my waistline down from 36”, although 36” is far better than the 42” I lived with for the two decades before the year 2000, when I got serious about exercise and the gym. My skills of balance are pretty crappy. and if I don’t make a conscious effort not to do so, I sometimes slouch.

But I do regard with satisfaction the changes that have taken place in my body over the past four years (the first two under my own steam, the last two under the tutelage of a friendly but highly demanding personal trainer). These changes are almost as pronounced as those that took place at puberty. Legs, arms, shoulders, back, chest--musculature in all these major bodily regions is sturdy and well-defined. I am also much, much stronger than I was four years ago.

And I was in very, very bad shape then. I couldn’t walk half a block without stopping to catch my breath. Lifting a 15-pound pile of newspapers and taking it out to the curb for recycling was almost beyond me. If I had allowed things to go on as they had been going--if I had let entropy take its natural course--there’s every chance that I would be using a cane today. Or a wheelchair. Or be dead. Two days ago, using a machine not free weights, I leg-pressed 480 pounds.

By far the most improvement has taken place in only the last four months. If I’d assign the number 10 to represent four years ago, and 90 where I am now, 35 of that 90 have taken place since mid-March--and that 35 stands for both increased strength and increased muscular definition.

Please be patient. I’m getting around to the question that concerns me--the difference that age makes as concerns the time it takes for the effects of serious, disciplined, progressively more challenging exercise to show up.

Here’s my hunch.

It took me four years to arrive at my present shape, which is pretty damn good for anyone my age--or anyone 55 for that matter.

If I’d started at age 50, however, I could have made the same kind of progress in two years.

If I’d started at 30, maybe a year and a half. And at 20, in nine months...

The exact numbers are unimportant. It’s the principle that counts: the younger you are when you start working out, the earlier you will see the result you hope for; and, conversely, the older you are, the longer it will take.

One reason that this principle is important is that the baby boomers are now reaching late middle age (which used to be considered early old age). Some, perhaps even many, of them may come to the same decision I did four years ago, to stay or slow down the rate of their physical decline--even, if possible, to reverse it--by hauling ass to a gym.

They may want to know how long it will take, and I think the answer is “well, it’s never too late, but if you and your grown up sons start coming to the gym together, your sons will show significant progress before you do.”

I think that in most things of importance the great law of the universe is that entropy mentioned earlier. Unless some countervailing effort is expended, the overall direction of our powers is down. (Thomas Gray, Elegy in a Country Churchyard: “The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power, And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave, Await alike th' inevitable hour, The paths of glory lead but to the grave.”)

At what age are we at the peak of our natural power and strength?

I’m not sure, but I think the most common answer would be between 18 and 22. That’s the answer I would have given during most of my life thus far, but not anymore. Having grandchildren--and observing their development more closely than I did with my own sons--I would say that what takes place physically in the first four or five years of life is qualitatively greater than anything that takes place in the next 65 years or more. Learning to haul yourself up on two wobbly feet; then to stand sure-footed and in balance, and allow yourself the fall that is the first step in walking; and then to run; and then to ride a bicycle--aren’t these really the greatest achievements of our lives, with everything else, even the achievements of the best athletes, mere improvements?

This line of thought originated in an exchange of e-mail with Quercus. We batted things about more or less on the basis of common sense and intuition, but I wonder if there’s scientific literature about the relations between age and the effects of exercise.