I’m well into my third year of doing regular strength training in addition to training martial arts and this is probably the longest that I’ve ever stayed with any sort of strength training routine. I played around with strength training when I was in college, mostly during the summer when my schedule was more relaxed. From this side of life I can see that my gains at that age, such as they were, came with relative ease. But I never really enjoyed the activity and I have always been better at more aerobic activities like running. During my 30s and 40s, I only trained for endurance sports; 5Ks, 10Ks, Sprint Triathlons, open-water swims. And then, around the start of the COVID pandemic, several things came together to push me to once again try to establish a strength-training habit. But this post isn’t about my reasons for again taking up strength training in my 50s. Instead it’s about at least one thing that should motivate regular training — both strength and cardio training.
My training so far this year has been accompanied by a lot of frustration and waning motivation. I’ve had numerous injuries ranging from minor muscle tweaks to seemingly chronic conditions; back problems, pulled muscles, tendonitis in my elbows. I’ve been especially plagued by shoulder problems. Some of these problems have led me to closely examine which muscles I’m training and realize that I’m creating muscle imbalances that must be corrected. And then there’s that thought, always lurking in the back of my mind, that perhaps these aches and pains are simply a result of trying to push an older body too hard. But by far my biggest frustration is my stalled progress; I am stuck on a plateau in just about every measure. I’m not adding more weight to the bar, my percent body fat doesn’t seem to be changing (18-19% per my calipers) and I’m not gaining weight. I should add that I’m not a very big guy to begin with. All of these issues have caused me to question the value and role of strength training and to examine how my motivation has evolved over the last two-plus years.
This summer our family was fortunate to be able to take two really great vacations. Early in the summer we spent a week on the Caribbean island of Dominica and then, later in the summer, we spent two weeks in the Cayman Islands, a country we’ve been visiting regularly for over twenty years.
The primary objective for the trip to Dominica was to spend a week on the water looking for, and then snorkeling with, sperm whales — all done under permit from the Dominican Ministry of Agriculture and Fisheries. The largest part of most of our days was spent on a boat, listening for whale clicks on the hydrophone, motoring in the direction of the clicks, and scanning the horizon for signs of whales. The Fates smiled upon us and on most days we found the whales and had some really great, in-water encounters.
The process for getting in the water to snorkel with the whales was one of donning fins, mask and snorkel and then maneuvering to the back of the 35-foot boat, through the gate in the transom, and onto the platform behind the transom. Sometimes, if the situation was evolving quickly, one would skip that part about the gate and the maneuver was to sit on the transom, lift one’s legs up, and then pivot to lower oneself onto the platform. From there one would sit down onto the platform, which was at water level, with one’s legs in the water. All this was performed with the boat rocking gently in the waves a mile offshore.
At this point the captain would maneuver the boat so as to cross the whales’ path (the whales were always swimming, never still) and we would slip into the water as quietly as possible and lay flat on the surface with our faces in the water to minimize our profiles, waiting and hoping that they would continue swimming straight to us. Often they would change course just a bit and we would end up finning like mad, trying to catch up and/or stay abreast of them so as to take photos or video. Often the whales would dive deep after a little bit and just as often they would simply leave us behind with a couple of gentle kicks from their giant tails. Even apnea fins are no match for a whale that has grown tired of your company.
When the in-water encounter was over, we would swim back to the boat, hoist ourselves onto the platform, and then stand up and back our way back through the transom’s gate and into the boat.
After performing this routine a couple of times, it started to dawn on me how important regular strength and cardio training are for me in order to keep doing trips like this. And that fact was made all the more evident as I quietly observed the struggles of others in our group. The most effective way to sit on the platform at the back of the boat was to perform the first half of a pistol squat. I was thankful for all of the Bulgarian Split Squats that I do on a regular basis. Chasing after a whale on the surface for any length of time is full-bore cardio, and let’s not talk about the difficulty of grabbing a full lungful of air to dive down to capture footage from a more interesting angle. And finally, getting back onto the boat platform is best done with the same motion as the second half of an upright triceps dip, twisting at the end of the “press” to finish in a seated position on the platform. All of these activities were made easy and safe for me because of my regular, six days a week, training regimine. I even credit my martial arts practice, and the sense of balance it develops, for speeding the regaining of my sea legs after COVID had kept us from the sea for so long.
Our adventures in Dominica were not limited to the ocean. Our final two days on the island had us doing some pretty sketchy, multi-hour hikes for which the pay-off was experiencing some really fantastic jungle rainforests and waterfalls. There was a good deal of scrambling over enormous boulders and piles of volcanic rock and a lot of steep steps both up and down. This made me really appreciate the “step-up” exercises I do with barbells, as well as my box jumps. Balance, strength and muscle control were really important on those days.
Our time in the Cayman Islands was focused on scuba diving, as it always is. We do a lot of independent, self-guided shore diving which means first renting tanks from a nearby dive shop. This is where I noticed that the tanks felt lighter this year. I was surprised at how much stronger my shoulders felt during the “farmer’s carry” of the tanks to the car. After transporting the tanks to the beach, the next order of business is setting up the tanks, regulators, BCDs, etc, on the sand and then donning the whole assembly before heading into the water — at least that’s how we do it. It’s easier to pick one’s way through the rocks and debris while wearing one’s gear than it is to carry the gear into the water and put it on wet. After we all set up our gear, I usually help Barbara and Sebastian put on their BCDs. This is mostly due to habit since at 19, Sebastian could easily be helping the old folks get into their gear. Helping them into their gear means hefting, from the ground, a 35 pound tank attached to a BCD with at least 6 pounds of lead in its pockets, plus whatever weight the BCD and various kit (reel, SMB, etc) add to the total. This isn’t terribly hard to do when the weight is all in front of you, though the entire assembly is a little awkward for a couple of seconds. But the lift feels entirely different when it comes time to put on my own gear. Standing up from the deepest possible squat with the BCD strap slung over one shoulder is definitely a challenge for me and this trip made me think that I should augment my Bulgarian Split Squats with something more, though I’m not exactly sure what.
A couple of sites that we regularly dive require a 20 minute surface swim to a buoy. At the buoy we take a compass heading to our beach entry, and then we descend. From there it’s a wall dive until one of us gets down to a little less than half a tank and we have to start heading back. (Years of doing these dives have taught us that starting back at around a half-tank gives us the right safety margin.) We follow our compasses for a nice leisurely dive over some shallow reefs and usually surface very close to the shore entrance. Cardio fitness helps make a tank last longer and lean muscle mass helps to reduce the probability of decompression sickness.
There are a lot of reasons to train strength and just as many to train cardio and I see now how those reasons can and do change with age. Whereas when I was younger I was more motivated by how others saw me, now I find myself more motivated by feeling good and by continuing to be able to participate in those physical activities that I enjoy. I’m sure the day will come when chasing after whales or scrambling over boulders will simply be too much for me. But postponing that day as long as possible is now something at the top of my mind when I’m searching for motivation to train.