Am I Old Yet?

An Update

William Sundwick

Warp & Woof has seen other pieces about getting old. It seems I owe the reader an update from time to time. I am now mid-way through my fifth year of retirement.

I wouldn’t contest the rationale for my exit from the Library of Congress after 42 years – the decision was a sound one, backed by sound reasoning. The retirement adventure began with excitement and enthusiasm in 2015. I was getting out before I got old. This was good. The first thing I noticed was what an incredible relief it was to sleep in every morning. (I am not a lark by nature, but an owl.)

As time passed, the distance increased from the institution I had served for the bulk of my life. I went back only once, within the first year after retiring – for a tour with our neighbors and their then seven-year-old grandson. He was impressed; me not so much.

By now, I can safely say that I’ve retained absolutely no knowledge of the things which qualified me for my highest-level position, and my status at the Library. It’s telling that I’ve written only one post in Warp & Woof about anything I learned from a career at the Library of Congress!

My wife’s situation is different. She still works there, in an analogous position to mine. We’ve discussed her retirement decision process using the same criteria I used in making my 2014 decision. It doesn’t work for her, since she has something I lacked – deep personal friendships with some of her colleagues. Even Facebook friends carried over from work are now fading from my active interest. Apparently, my professional life was rather shallow compared to hers.

My credo is “don’t look back” – that 42-year career is no different from my ancient childhood memories of growing up in Flint, Michigan. Nothing is forever.

Other social outlets have become suitable substitutes for whatever I lost from my professional relationships at the Library. There’s church, community, and my Writers’ Group. Then, there are my kids – and grandkids – all local still!

I am also fortunate that no major health concerns have emerged (yet). I find that good habits regarding fitness and diet do seem to pay dividends. Practicing good habits is the best way to do maintenance as we get older, even if gym memberships don’t necessarily constitute social engagement.

While some interests from earlier phases of life (even the first couple of post-retirement years) have waned – sex, cars, and computer/software geekery among them – others have emerged, like politics, philosophy, and popular music, seen as art. I feel my mind is still active; I read lots, listen to podcasts, and continue to write for this blog. I am immensely grateful for time spent with my two sons, and the grandkids. Babysitting is a joy!

So, when do I get old? Could it be when I become more absorbed with my legacy than my life? I don’t spend much time with that perennial question: “Will anybody miss me when I’m gone?” Ultimately, it doesn’t matter since I won’t be here to know. And memories are different from “missing” someone, anyway. But we do all have legacies.

I suspect mine will be divided between the concrete legacy (financial, educational, values transmitted to offspring) and the abstract legacy (impact on strangers and unborn generations). I can see evidence of the concrete legacy every day, but the abstract variety is more elusive. The latter might make me wonder what I was doing for 42 years at one of the world’s foremost cultural institutions. Screw it! Hardly anybody deserves the privilege to worry about those things, right? I’m not ready yet to spend time justifying my legacy, either variety, as “good.” Leave that for others to judge.

So, if I’m not old yet because I don’t worry about my legacy, am I maybe starting to get tired? The answer is both yes and no. As noted above, sleep is a motivator -- perhaps even more now than five years ago? But when awake I can usually still engage in lively conversation on any number of issues. I believe I have no difficulty getting people to understand what I’m saying. People, in general, are never tiresome – although my grandchildren can be very tiring!

A final indicator of being old might be the role dreams play in my life. Are they still there? I must confess to a “new boredom” at times. Much of what sparked my imagination in times past only elicits a “meh,” or yawn, now. Perhaps I need to find new emotional stimuli? Cultural conditioning is a constraint here in my response to art. I always look to younger folks (like my kids) for help in this area. Millennials are still the best interlocutors for art appreciation.

Whether I decide to define myself as old or not, there remain the Erik Erikson developmental stages of life. I am now wrestling with stage 8, “Integrity vs. Despair” – working full-time on the complete integration of my personality. This is the final act. I’m waiting only for stage 9, the hypothetical one suggested just before the Eriksons’ deaths, where everything rewinds back to the beginning!

I should be asking myself if there is anyone I missed – any debts I still owe? Are there still some opportunities to exploit? And, if I’m truly old, I need to start prioritizing what to do with the time left. Should I start leaving Post-It notes? “But I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep” – Robert Frost.

Aging, Body and Mind

An Introspection

William Sundwick

As I approach my 72^nd anniversary on the planet, I’m beginning to feel old – ever so slightly. I have no physical infirmity that I can conveniently use as an excuse for it. There are no mobility issues, like those my mother suffered from Parkinsons in the last six or seven years of her life.

In fact, I feel rather fit, with my 160-minute per week cardio and core strength workout routine at the gym. I combine that with daily stretching, weights, and balance exercises at home. And I walk three miles per day, weather permitting. Only my feet seemingly keep me from running. My fighting weight is down to about 164 pounds, and I’ve shrunk only about an inch-and-a-half from my maximum height.

I don’t mind looking at myself in the mirror when I shower.

Yet, something has changed recently. Is it my face? I still have a full head of hair (and silver is often seen as distinguished, isn’t it?) I pay attention to grooming my beard, my eyebrows, and get haircuts regularly.

But when I’m at the gym, out and about in the neighborhood, running errands, or at church, I tend to look at other people. Many (most?) are younger. I can tell.

The Body in My Mind

I attribute these feelings to the “body in my mind.” It has undergone changes in the last few years. In some ways it is good, the middle-aged paunch has disappeared (thanks to my discovery of fitness after 60). But there is something else – something in my mind when I think about my body. Is it just the wrinkles and blotches on my face, and those heavier eyelids? Or, perhaps it’s the veil of self-deception dropping, the beginning of the reckoning.

Losing that veil is depressing. For instance, I wonder if I will ever be able to come on to a young, attractive woman again? It’s been at least three years since I sensed anybody noticing me that way. A small dose of flirting might be a palliative.

That body is only subject to decline from here on – the best I can do is arrest the decline, not stop it, certainly not reverse it!

My Mind in the World

It’s not all about my declining body, however. There is also “my mind in the world.” How do I relate to the world? When I look at others, many of them younger, I see their use of a language based on enthusiasm, noticeably lacking in my own verbal communication. You can tell who has that zest for life and who doesn’t, after talking with them only briefly. It’s their use of both verbal and body language. Written language is important when communicating across time and space. But for the flesh-pressing here-and-now, face-to-face verbal, inflection and body language are what count. And the here-and-now (IRL in social media) is the secret to feeling vital.

Whether it’s the automatic assumption on Harris-Teeter senior discount day that I deserve the 5% discount, without the checker asking, or other patronizing business encounters, the world makes me feel old.

Lately, I have convinced myself that it’s those millennials (not just my kids, but the whole cohort) who have the best orientation to the world. Their searching and struggles are compelling, as they were for me at that age. They are my favorite demographic group. It has to do with their focus on the future. I only have the present and regrets about the past. They are always reaching out. They seek community. Those I know are more extroverted than other generations, too. The world is their place.

Time flies …

“Time flies when you’re having fun!” Do we even want time to fly? There isn’t much of it left, after all! Having fun seems to require planning. Real plans need timelines (to guard against procrastination). Those fuzzy “I wish I could …” plans serve little purpose when you get older.

The present must be recognized and seized. You should organize your time in such a way as to increase the odds of taking advantage of opportunities when they arise. Thinking about my retirement decision five years ago, I remember the key drivers were: 1) little financial incentive to exceed the Civil Service Retirement System’s “maxing out” at 42 years seniority; 2) asking myself what it would take to keep me on the job; 3) likely organizational deterioration of my operation, regardless of what I did; 4) desire to get out while still healthy!

It was a slam-dunk by mid-2015.

Yes, there are losses in retirement. There’s social loss (collegial relationships), prestige loss (“what do you do?” “I’m retired”), and activity loss (don’t forget to invent replacement activities). Cutting those losses should be the prime objective. All are counteracted by good planning, optimism, and confidence in your legacy. That legacy may mean various things -- your organization, your family, or whatever audience you choose.

What comes next? It needn’t be scary. It may be slow (unfortunate, like my mother’s Parkinsons, or step-father’s Alzheimers) or fast (merciful, like my father’s coronary at 81, much later than he was expected to survive). It may be expected or unexpected. It may come as relief from pain, or as easily as dozing off for a nap. Ultimately, it doesn’t matter.

Sighs and Shrugs

Sighs and shrugs are the appropriate reaction to all this, I guess. None of us is immortal. We do what we can to postpone the inevitable, but it seems foolish to panic about undone deeds, unfinished projects. They’re always unfinished. Is the world a better place for me having been in it all these years? I hope so. But I don’t know about the fullness of time – the final judge. None of us does.

I planned a retirement party for myself after 42 years at the Library of Congress. There weren’t many such parties among my compatriots retiring then. I’m not sure why. I felt I deserved one. I wanted to give those that “survived” me a party; I didn’t need them to give me one. 

Was it a wake? It felt like one, but I was present!  

Grandpa and Mira, Dec. 2018

Who Thought that 35 Years would Be So Easy?

William Sundwick

Thirty-five years later, I’ll admit to having some trepidation about the future back then. I suspect my wife-to-be shared at least that much!

Winter, 1982-83. We were planning our January 15 wedding. Lots of thinking and work. We were about to embark on a great adventure. Our 1983 frame of reference was rather optimistic, considering what some were predicting. Still embroiled in the Cold War, but the West had the upper hand, still recovering from a recession, but a mild one by most standards. Anyway, we were not invested in Wall Street. Both my career and wife’s showed promise in the federal government. I was a full-time grad student, on sabbatical, seeking a career change (secretly). We had plans to start house shopping despite mortgage interest rates as high as 13 percent -- we each owned property, if only one-bedroom condos, in Arlington, VA.

But, we both knew we could handle increased responsibilities – after all, we were in our thirties! And,

the wedding and reception that cold, snowy January evening in DC went well, we thought. Our social obligations had been fulfilled. Our family and friends were all very supportive – they had confidence in us! That first night at the Tysons West Park Hotel came as a huge relief. The rest of our life was about to start.

The next morning, off we drove into the fresh snow in my Dodge Omni. Front wheel drive was a novelty for me then, made me think I had a “snow car.” We headed for Virginia hunt country -- out west on US 50. Middleburg was only an hour away, even in the snow. We had two nights reserved at the historic Red Fox Inn.

It seemed an ideal romantic honeymoon getaway, especially since neither of us were in position to travel very far – and, the weather. But, on the second day, my bride got sick. It must have been a stomach virus. Not very romantic! On the third day, heading home, I got the same virus. Equally

unromantic.

Thus ended our honeymoon in Virginia hunt country. But our life together began, nevertheless. The first year we lived in my condo in Fairlington Villages, while I was still a grad student. I was a kept man. In 1984, we bought the house where we still live, in a North Arlington neighborhood largely intact from its original development in the 1940s through 1970s. Brick colonials like ours characterized the “old” part of the neighborhood, split-foyers and split-levels characterized the 1950s and 1960s, A-frames on slabs the 1970s. The East Falls Church Metro station was on schedule to open the following year, but its effect on real estate values still lay in the future -- and, only a nine-block walk from our house!

The house seemed huge in 1984, compared to our one-bedroom condos. Eight (tiny) rooms! In it, two sons would grow up – the first born in 1985, his brother in 1988.  I had returned to my old job in January 1984, writing off the investment in a second M.S. degree as a risk whose reward remained to be seen (embedding IT professionals within organization charts was an emerging fashion, but not so much in the federal government). My wife continued to support me – so it seemed -- with her higher salary.

For the next 30 years it would be all about the kids. Through toddlerhood, preschool, school years, sports, academics, college applications, college success, career choice. Finding mates! Even a grandchild in 2015. Although we needed more space, we built on only when the oldest was entering his senior year in high school, and then again when the youngest was in college. Our financial circumstances had prevented action sooner, easing only as we approached empty nesthood. Within a year after the youngest graduated from college we became true empty nesters. Both sons live in the area, but in their own housing.

Finally, it was time to consider retirement, at least for me. By 2015, I would cut the cord from my long-time employer (The Library of Congress). Stalwart wife has not (same agency). But, I was no longer a kept man! Fortunate in so many ways, I should seek a tone of humility, but can’t resist a bit of self-satisfaction in my “golden years.”

Thirty-five years is a long time. It is half of my life. It’s time to think about things – have I given as much as I’ve received? And, who could be an impartial judge, anyway? Surely, we’ve “gone the distance” by now. We both know where we’ve been, and can look clear-eyed at where we are. The future will take care of itself. The kids are never done, of course, but any further development for them is going to be up to them! Do we have a name for this place we’re at? Bliss? Resolution? Harvest? Whatever we call it, I’d say the reward is palpable.

Well, the time came this year for the great return. I made reservations for an anniversary stay at the Red Fox Inn back in Middleburg. It is still there, looking much as it did 35 years ago. The same antique furniture (it could be different antique furniture, I wouldn’t remember).

The flat screen HD TVs were new, but the hunt country fare on the menu at the Red Fox Tavern looked very familiar – but heavy for my current taste. The selection of Virginia wines, and
complimentary gourmet chocolates in the room, were intended to promote local Loudoun County businesses.

No snow this time around, but it was cold. We managed the drive out US 50 in the same hour that it took in 1983. This time, we made it on our Chevy Volt’s battery charge -- no gas used until return trip! The view along the route has changed, however. Loudoun County is not the same as it was 35 years ago. One doesn’t leave suburban development now until Aldie, still a quaint 19^th century rural village, but with a large banner across its only commercial buildings proclaiming the project to “Save historic Aldie!” Middleburg, too, maintains a similar ambience. 

Although the Red Fox Inn and Tavern has an image to preserve, some of the other local businesses show more panache, like the Julien Café and Sandwicherie with its Help Wanted sign out front advertising “Norwegians Only Apply!” -- echoing the latest Washington buzz. Visiting and wine tasting at Cana Vineyards in Aldie reminded me of a similar experience at a Temecula, CA winery two years ago. Both were relatively new businesses (Cana only five years old).

The view from the wine tasting room to the hills beyond had the same feel, except the Temecula hills were higher.

This time nobody got sick. We returned home to continue our anniversary celebration with Monday dinner at our traditional anniversary haunt – the Panjshir Afghan restaurant in Falls Church, in a new location since last year.

Wife began her work week refreshed, and we both awakened to a 35-year job well done. We are the better for it. And, I’m confident, the world is a better place, too.

How to Keep Your Exercise Routine Focused in the Present, not the Future

William Sundwick

Everybody agrees that exercise is an important factor in health, especially as we age. But, who hasn't had difficulty keeping to their ideal exercise routine? It's just too much work, it's boring, I'm too busy, it's too cold or too hot, or rainy outside.

Part of the problem in keeping to a schedule may be goals that are over-ambitious. While true that setting goals can lead to achievement, hence releasing dopamine, making you feel good about yourself, setting goals that are too high leads to failure! Failure is not something that releases dopamine, or any other "feel good" neurotransmitter. There's reason to believe that working out, like dieting, for the purpose of weight loss may not be the best strategy, unless your weight loss goal is very oblique (maybe primarily for weight CONTROL!). My physician has given me oblique instructions like "drop 5 pounds before I see you next time", and it's worked, but that is a pretty modest goal. Likewise, the well-known trap of  "I work out so I'll look good naked" is probably a set-up for failure, if body image is a major detriment to your feeling good about yourself.

My proposal, based mostly on personal experience with exercise over the last 8-9 years (i.e., only since I turned 60, really) is simple: focus on the present, not the future! Much research supports the basic premise that exercise, even moderate exercise, makes you feel good. Being sedentary is something which clearly does NOT release any of the four "feel good" chemicals in your brain: dopamine, serotonin, oxytocin, and endorphins. We're not talking about the famous "runner's high" here, that may only happen after an hour or more of very vigorous aerobic, or cardio, exercise, like running. But, even as little as 10 minutes of some motion-oriented activity, like dancing or gardening, can produce measurable increases in the release of some of the neurotransmitters associated with BDNF (Brain Derived Neurotrophic Factor).  It's this category of protein, like anandamide, that allows us to reduce stress, and deal with anxiety and depression, at least temporarily. Studies have demonstrated that groups of depressed patients, when exposed to regular exercise alone, fared better than control groups administered drugs, or combined drugs and exercise. Endorphin release, that "runner's high", doesn't ever make it to the brain, but stays in the blood stream. It's those other neurotransmitters that affect your mood.

While any physical activity has positive benefits for mood, a somewhat more vigorous exercise program is even better. Something on the order of 30 minutes, at least, three to five days per week, is often recommended. This level of exertion does require a modicum of preparation and routinizing, for most of us. I've decided that the most important features of any successful exercise program are the following:

1. do things that feel good, not painful (you shouldn't be "testing" yourself)
2. associate your workout with another pleasurable experience (I listen to my iTunes playlists only when I'm at the gym, and I love that music)
3. set goals only slightly hard to meet (mine are simply the number of days per week I go to the gym ... my workout, once there, is always the same)
4. measure your success after the fact ... not while you're working out (I weigh myself once a week, and manually add calories burned at gym to my Fitbit app, along with calories consumed wth food -- sleep, and total steps from all sources, are automatically recorded -- gym workouts are only one part of a holistic picture)
5. vary your routine, not because you're bored, or aren't getting the results you want, but just because you want variety in your life (my gym workout is always the same, except I added back-strengthening about a year ago, but I also walk around the neighborhood, do stretching and limberness exercises at home, and have a pair of 8-lb. arm weights and a 5-lb. medicine ball at home, all run on their own separate schedules).

I consider myself a successful, and happy, senior exerciser. I've managed to keep it up for at least eight years, and have dropped about 35 lbs. off my weight over that time, most of it the first year, but with a downward curve continuing, though shallower, ever since. I'm actually proud of myself when I look in the mirror these days. My wife concurs. I never had any specific weight loss goals, and never felt a pressing need to look better, except just to generally "improve" my self image. Retirement helped, rather than hindered, the process, too -- more time to play!

All of the above suggestions are focused on your exercise routine feeling good while you're practicing it, and immediately afterwards. My experience has been that focusing on the present is almost always the preferred state of mind. Although I don't meditate, I can understand its appeal! If you allow yourself to focus too much on the future, anxiety is the likely result. If you focus too much on the past, sadness for lost opportunities! The Present remains the best bet for happiness.