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For the Health

For the Health

This article was published as an issue of my newsletter Ready for Rain

Sachi and I have an inside joke that relates to Hawaii. Her relatives have a tradition of saying, “For the health!” before eating or drinking special items that may or may not be healthy. We’ve brought the spirit of this phrase into our lives and pretend that we can make anything healthier by saying, “For the health!”, before munching on cookies, ice cream, or other goodies.

In the post below, I’m taking a decidedly more realistic approach to the phrase.


For the Health

When we moved into the new house, I had a mantra: new house, new rules. It felt like moving was an opportunity to rethink habits and set goals. This included the dogs and initially, they were the only success stories. They quickly adjusted to new regimes of behavior.

I ​turned fifty​ this year, and that prompted a new set of rules, mostly focused on health and wellness. Perhaps “rules” is not the right word. They are really more like intentions or hopes. My overall goal is to establish common-sense habits that can last.

I want to be healthier tomorrow and next year, but my real focus is decades into the future. I ask myself: What can I start now, and keep up for years, that will have a cumulative effect that’s positive? Sustainability is key.

When I talk to friends about these changes, they are always curious. It seems they are looking for ideas. I’d do the same in their shoes. We all need inspiration to change. I’d like to share the changes I’m making in case it helps you. Sharing also adds some social pressure on me to keep it up.

Turning fifty was a great reason to evaluate. Over the last year, I’ve had a physical, blood work, and minor issues that needed treatment. For example, a painless kidney stone led to a recommendation to drink a lot more water.

This has been one of the most positive changes I’ve made. I now drink water all day, starting with a glass along with coffee. Looking back, I had lethargy and headaches in the afternoons that likely came from dehydration. More water solved that problem.

My age also prompted a colonoscopy, which was clear. The procedure created an opportunity to learn about gut health. I made it a goal to increase the amount of fiber in my diet. Along with improved digestion, fiber is known to help with hypertension, cholesterol, and more.

So, I’m eating more fruits and vegetables, and I learned more about bran and whole grains. You hear about it all the time, but what is it, really? I think about it like this…

Grain, like wheat, has two basic parts: the seed and the husk. White bread and white rice are processed to remove the husk, which has most of the fiber. I’ve switched to whole-grain bread and mixed rice (brown and white), you know, for the health.

One of the great joys of my life is ice cream, or any cream, really. For years, I enjoyed yogurt in the mornings and ice cream in the evenings. This level of dairy needed to change. Today, mornings are all about protein. I usually have two eggs, veggies, and a bit of mayo. I’ve found that I have more energy and don’t crash as easily.

In the evenings, my ice cream has transitioned to Greek yogurt. I discovered a “cereal” called Kellogg’s All-Bran Buds. I realize that doesn’t sound appetizing, and it’s not a delicacy. However, it adds a satisfying crunch to yogurt and a half cup has 61% of your daily recommended fiber. Another cereal I learned about recently: ​Poop Like a Champion​.

Overall, we try to aim for the Mediterranean diet (according to the ​Cleveland Clinic​):

  • Lots of vegetables, fruit, beans, lentils and nuts.
  • Lots of whole grains, like whole-wheat bread and brown rice.
  • Plenty of extra virgin olive oil (EVOO) as a source of healthy fat.
  • A moderate amount of fish, especially fish rich in omega-3 fatty acids.
  • A moderate amount of cheese and yogurt.
  • Little or no meat, choosing poultry instead of red meat.
  • Little or no sweets, sugary drinks or butter.
  • A moderate amount of wine with meals.

Moving to the island was a great time to focus on cooking at home. Today, over 95% of our meals are at home. This helps us eat more whole foods and control the ingredients and portions. I’m getting used to smaller portions and more veggies. What we don’t skimp on is the flavor that comes from ingredients like butter, mayo, and soy sauce.

We’re not heavy drinkers but enjoy alcohol as part of our week. For us, the concern is more about calories than something more severe like liver disease.

This summer, I tried something new: non-alcoholic beer. It kind of blew my mind and made me rethink my relationship with the brews. I’ve had good experiences with craft-style beers like Athletic Brewing, which have very similar flavors to their alcoholic counterparts. It helps, too, that they are lower calorie; most are between 60-90 calories a can.

Keeping an exercise regimen has always been a challenge for me. In the new house, I wanted to find a way to exercise consistently no matter the season or weather. My Hydrow rowing machine has continued to be the ​perfect tool for me​. I now row first thing in the morning and listen to podcasts while matching my strokes with the instructor on the screen.

I’m also more intentional about being outside than ever before. The garden has been a constant source of movement, activity, and interest. Moving rocks, stacking wood, spreading mulch, weeding, planting, and pruning add up to a big and ongoing job that I genuinely enjoy.

So, more water, more fiber, smaller portions, fewer (and better) calories, and exercise. Unlike fad diets, supplements, or hardcore workouts, this feels sustainable over the long term, especially since it’s not absolute. I’m not abandoning sugar, fat, laziness, and everything nice. You gotta live your life.

I may not be a perfect specimen at 51, but that’s not the goal. I’d rather be above average at 80.

The next time you see me, ask about these new habits. Whatever the status, you will have helped by applying a bit of the peer pressure I need.

Turning 50

Turning 50

This article was published as an issue of my newsletter Ready for Rain

A couple of weeks ago, Sachi returned from the post office with a grin on her face. She said, “Oh, do I have something for you.” This piqued my interest and I waited for the prize to be revealed. She dealt out the mail like a card dealer, slapping bills and brochures onto the table until it was finally revealed: my invitation to join AARP.

We both laughed, and mine was only a bit performative. The day had finally arrived. I was turning 50 and there was no going back. I put the invitation in the recycling bin and assumed AARP would be in touch again soon.

Entering my fifties is cause for a bit of reflection. Multiple people have asked what the birthday means to me, or what plans I have for my fifties. I leave them mostly disappointed, as I don’t have much to offer. I don’t plan to start running marathons or take up pottery. Those may happen, but it’s not my intention right now. I’m probably still riding the high of moving to Orcas and ​building Flattop​. For now, I’m not itching for change.

When I think about the next decade, I mostly want to remain mentally and physically healthy. Age comes for all of us and my hope is to (at least) maintain the status quo. After all, the arc of aging is long and bends toward incontinence. To keep one’s head above water is a constant struggle.

Louis C.K. has this great joke about how a doctor’s advice changes once you get over 40. He limped on a sore ankle for a month and finally went to the doctor to get it fixed:

If you’re over 40, by the way, the doctors give up on you. At 20 they would have fashioned a new ankle out of acacia wood, but for me, it was:

“Yeah, your ankle’s worn out!”

Is there anything I can do?

“Well there are stretches…”

Will that fix it?

“No, you just do that now! You do that until you and your shitty ankle goes away.”

My friend Rachael sent a text on my birthday with a similar sentiment:

Happy birthday, Lee! Welcome to the over 50 club. Special privileges include: sore knees, mystery back pain, the need for a nap during the day, and going to bed early.

I wrote back to say that this was also a major part of my forties. And it’s all true. Naps have never felt better. Some form of low-grade pain or soreness is usually present and I accept it as part of life.

Alas, I am thankful to be here, right now. 110 years ago, in 1913, the ​average life expectancy​ for men was about 50 years. Today it’s 76 years. Given my relative health and lifestyle, it may be more like 80.

This is cause for hope. Each year that passes represents a year of advancements in medicine. We could be on the verge of new cancer treatments, new vaccines, new therapies. I’ve lived through 50 of these years and believe the next fifty will be marked by scientific discoveries like the ones that kept my ancestors from getting smallpox and polio.

I sometimes visualize my age and future advancements in science on the same track. We’re on a collision course, creeping slowly toward one another. The older I get, the closer science gets to curing whatever will eventually do me in. Each year time passes and I get inexorably closer to both death and potential saviors.

My hope is that science is advancing toward me faster than I am degrading. In the future, it could move down the track, toward me, in leaps and bounds. In this context, I just need to stay on the track long enough for these advancements to reach me. The sooner the better.

So I am hopeful.

I heard once that your forties are the best decade because you finally get comfortable with who you are and care less about what people think of you. That feels right to me. I care less and less every day. Or, more aptly, the comfort I feel with myself grows every day.

What I am most thankful for at this stage is the people I’ve come to know and love. First and foremost is Sachi. I can’t imagine life without her. We’ve been fortunate to find a group of friends that we’ve come to consider family. All things being equal, this is the fountain of youth.

In approaching 50, I noticed how my outlook changed. For my entire life, the future seemed practically infinite. My age wasn’t a factor. I had plenty of years to reinvent myself or find some new life direction.

Lately, my thoughts have subtly and unexpectedly shifted from infinite time to a single question: how much is left? Let’s say it’s about 30 years. That feels substantial. 30 years is a long time to do virtually anything I want. I’ll never be a starting quarterback, but 30 years feels like a luxury and I’m doing what I can to appreciate it. I know that soon I’ll look around and say, “Remember how it felt to be 50, with so much time?”

Today it feels like:

  • 30 years for me to remain healthy
  • 30 years for science to advance
  • 30 years to reinvent or reimagine
  • 30 years to discover and learn
  • 30 years to increase my life expectancy
  • 30 years to love

I can’t wait to see what’s next.