I ask myself the same question. Not getting any younger, to put it mildly. Aging with a disability, to put it realistically. How much longer can I summon the musculoskeletal wherewithal...to do much of anything? I can easily let age get the better of me. Things get harder...and I fear they will soon get impossible.
With a certain air and a certain girth, Dexter almost makes me forget he is of a certain age. What keeps him going? His answer knocked all the romance out of railroading, not to mention aging: five weekly visits to the gym, plus a personal trainer. Simple as that.
Which did not surprise me, and greatly encouraged me. Actually, I have recently been hitting the neuromuscular comeback trail myself. And the same lessons apply.
Come on, Paul, it's normal. This from my personal trainer, a.k.a., physical therapy assistant. I had been complaining that walking had become more difficult than ever. It's because you're doing it less and less, my trainer replied. Walk less, you balance less...until being on your feet becomes downright scary. Which makes you walk even less, and so on.
Not a brilliant insight...but at my age, any insight will do. As for the walking, yes, I am doing more and more. It is getting easier and easier. And though I'm not getting younger and younger...well, this will do.