The fastest growing group is people over 85. It’s possible to live long and well, but how? (2024)

The fastest growing age group in the U.S. is people over age 85, and the second fastest is people 100 and over (centenarians). Experts predict a twelvefold increase in centenarians by the year 2060, and that a 10-year-old child alive today has a 50% chance of living to be over 100.

What’s more, some experts believe that with all our modern advantages, it would be common in the future to live 120 years if we didn’t eat so poorly and were much more physically active.

Sound impossible? Not at all.

An example is Jeanne Calment, born in Arles, France in 1875. She died at the age of 122 of “unspecified causes.” Not only did she survive all those years, she was vigorous to the end. Fauja Singh, a British runner, ran a marathon in just over eight hours at age 100.Orville Rogers, an American, captured national attention when he was still running long distances at age 101. And Julia “Hurricane” Hawkins broke the 100-meter sprint record in the 105+ age category.

OK, you get the point. It’s possible to live long and well, but surely not everyone can do this, right?

Unfortunately, that’s true. Lots of factors are involved, but two that stand out are a good set of genes and regular exercise. And when it comes to regular exercise a case can be made that you can’t be timid about it. This brings to mind baseball great Leroy “Satchel” Paige who became a rookie pitcher in the major leagues at the age of 42. When asked about his advanced age for a rookie, he famously responded, “How old would you be if you didn’t know how old you are?”

You may like:Poor sleep could be killing you. Here's how to improve your sleep hygiene

In other words, to lots of folks age is just a number. I try to live by that, and I was blessed to have two influential figures in my background who scoffed at the notion of being old and acting like it. Maybe their story will inspire your own.

A wiry, grandfather readyto pick a fight

The first was my grandfather, a bare knuckles middleweight boxing champion in England way back when. Lots of incredible stories about him were told by my father and uncles at gatherings, and here is my favorite when he was well into his sixties, still a strong, wiry, 160 pounds, and able to pump out endless pushups.

My grandfather loved to drink and socialize. Very late one night as they were partying loudly at home, there was a knock on the door. A new neighbor had just moved in, and he needed to get to sleep so he came over to complain. The neighbor was fresh out of the Marines, big, young and in top shape. He yelled at my grandmother, and when she tried to shut the door, he pushed it open, knocking her back. My grandfather approached and told the Marine they needed to move to the back yard and settle the matter.

In short order, my grandfather unleashed a torrent of quick, powerful blows, then he took pity on the Marine and told him he’d be smart to quit and go home, and he did.

You may like:Looking to get stronger? Here's how to train with light weights and still build muscle

Fight over.

The next day, my grandfather was on the front porch in his favorite rocking chair, newspaper in hand and smoking one of his big cigars. The Marine saw him clearly in the daylight, was amazed at what he saw, the snow-white hair and thick glasses, and came over for a visit. He approached cautiously, face bruised and puffy, both eyes blackened and said, “Sir, I have come to apologize. It wasn’t right of me, and I am ashamed. If I had known how old you are, I never would have fought with you.”

I can still hear my dad and uncles laughing so hard, tears ran down their cheeks.

Meet Al, the 'ageless' boxing trainer who whipped me into shape

My second ageless hero was Al, a crusty old buzzard reminiscent of Mick (Burgess Meredith), Rocky’s trainer in the movie "Rocky."Al was in his mid-sixties and looked every bit of it, if not older. He ran a boxing gym and was a very successful trainer.

I entered the gym, met Al and told him I wanted to be a boxer. He looked me over, my bulging biceps and 32-inch six-pack abs, and said, “We’ve had pretty boys with big useless muscles in here before.”

He looked me over again, frowned and said, “You in any kinda shape, or you just a big cardboard cutout?”

Before I could answer he said, “Boxer, huh? Let’s go see what you got in you.”

We walked a few blocks in silence to a high school track and Al took off running, calling over his shoulder for me to follow. I hadn’t been doing much running as part of my training, mostly strength building, grunts and groans. Even so, I did OK, keeping up, but just barely as we finished a mile. I hoped we were done.

You may like:Why athletes 'seduced' by performance-enhancing drugs are ruining sports for everyone else

No way.

Al picked up the pace considerably and said, “That’s enough warmup. Now, let’s do some work.”

I pushed myself as hard as I could, but lap after lap, faster and faster, I kept falling further behind. Then it happened. With my stomach doing flip flops and the taste of bile in my mouth, I had to stop and vomit. Total embarrassment, total humiliation. Worse, when Al lapped me, he raced by and said, “Just as I thought. All show, no go.”

Al finished running and started back to the gym. Laughing, he said, “See ya around, Kid… or maybe I won’t.”

In my mind’s eye, I pictured my grandfather sitting in the stands, glaring, his look telling me, “No matter what, you never quit!”

I went back to the gym the next day. Al was surprised to see me, then cracked a big smile and said, “Maybe you ain’t all show after all, but let’s find out for sure.”

Then he ran me into the ground again. Day after day it was the same, until eventually, after a particularly hard, gut-busting run, I guess I finally had convinced him I was worth his time and effort. He pulled me aside, stuck out his hand and said, “If you got it in you, Kid, and maybe you do, you got my word, I’ll bring it out.”

Thanks, Al.

Reach Bryant Stamford, a professor of kinesiology and integrative physiology at Hanover College, at stamford@hanover.edu.