Forget Al Bundy. Forget his 4 touchdowns in one game at Polk High School (although, still impressive). And forget reliving your “glory days” from varsity football or hoops or that championship travel AAU baseball team you were on. If you’re reading Midlife Male, then that stuff likely occurred twenty or thirty (or even forty) years ago.
Were those good times? Yes. Is it fun to reminisce with your old buddies? Hell yes.
But what are you competing in now to continue that feeling? To continue the pride that comes with putting it all on the line for victory?
Unfortunately, for too many guys over forty, the answer is something like this: “uh, nothing.”
And by the way, until very recently, I was smack dab in the middle of that group. Yes, I’ve played pick-up hoops my whole life and I lift in my garage gym, affectionately known as the Flex Factory, 3-4 days a week, and I’ve always prioritized being in excellent shape…
But for too long “staying in shape” or, if I’m being honest, “staying somewhat jacked” (haha) was both the grind and the goal – the thing I did and the thing I was working towards. I know a lot of guys like this. You probably do, too. You may be one of us.
Between work and raising kids and life in general, I figured carving out an hour a day to workout 5-6 days a week WAS the W.
Then, like George Costanza, in my early 40s, a yearning set in.
I was exercising, but I wasn’t working towards anything.
I was training, but I wasn’t competing.
I was in shape, but not engaged.
Then something occurred to me:
I’m 46, not 96. I can literally compete in every single thing I used to love doing – I just stopped doing it.
So I thought: “What if, you know, I just started back up again?”
For me, this meant revisiting my best sport: swimming.
Not to go all Vince Vaughn in Wedding Crashers and tell you I was All-State and that I can make it rain out there, or whatever the swimming equivalent is… But I can. I was All-State. 50 Fly. 100 Fly. I owned those races in Age Groups and Junior Olympics and in high school and was going to continue in college…
Then after a single week of ridiculously early wake-ups to walk across campus to swim practice I quit. Done. I simply decided I didn’t want to spend the next four years of my life waking up at 4:45AM, in the dark, often in the cold, to head to the pool.
And from age 18 until 46 I didn’t compete in an actual swim meet or participate in an actual swim practice on a team.
But I thought about it. A lot.
I felt like I had unfinished business in the pool. That I never gave it 100%. That it’s the one sport I was really good at, or even great at, and I quit. And I tell my kids all the time not to quit, but that’s just what I did.
And so I went 28 years without racing.
Now, I did keep up with swimming a little bit. I usually got in a basic solo workout once or twice a week because I never stopped loving the sport. I’d do a 1500 or 2000 to dabble and stay in shape. No coach. No team. Just a warm-up and sets of 100s or 200s freestyle. Easy does it.
Then last Spring after watching the U.S. Swimming Olympic Trials I decided I had enough. I HAD to get back in the pool. For real. So I did what we all do. I went online and Googled “Masters Swimming near me” and I found a team and the practice schedule and the coach’s email and the pool and then I did…
Nothing. Squat. Zilch.
It was like the act of finding the information I needed hit me with the dopamine I craved and for weeks I didn’t do a damn thing.
I just kept saying those dreaded words to myself: “Someday I’ll join the team.”
But as we all know: “Someday is just another word for never.”
Think about that. Really pause and think about it. It hits hard. Because it’s true for so many of us midlife men about so many things.
Right here would be the moment in the comeback story that I tell you about a deep conversation I had or a book that I read or a podcast I listened to that got me off my ass… But that would be lying.
What really happened was this
One Tuesday morning I caught myself absently Googling the Masters Swim Schedule for the 40th time and right then, right there, I called myself out for being a wuss.
I decided that I wasn’t going to join next Monday. Or the first of the next month. I was joining. That day. That moment. A minute later I emailed the coach, introduced myself and said I’d be at practice that night. Then I went on the Masters Swimming National website and registered and paid for the year.
Done and done.
Twelve hours later I was in the pool, lungs burning, shoulders on fire, legs kicking, trying to keep up with a young crew of dudes just out of college and a few guys in their early 30s training for an upcoming IronMan.
It hurt. It ruled.
I’d barely finished drying off and I knew I should have joined the team years earlier. A few weeks later and I knew it was the best decision I’d made for myself in a while.
Having a coach again was incredible. Training with guys pushing you every day was a revelation after decades away. Working on technique and timing and stroke rate and all the minutiae was the perfect distraction from whatever book I was writing or project I was working on or whatever family stuff or life stress had thrown my way. Signing up for meets in the future gave me a sense of purpose and a training goal to work backwards from.
I’d missed all of it for so long I’d forgotten what I’d even missed until I was in the thick of it again.
The harder I trained the more I tapped into my younger self and laughed. What would 18-year-old me think of 46-year-old me ripping a 50 meter fly at roughly the same time? Or even crazier, what if I could get faster than I was in high school in my 40s? Does that mean I’m in my prime now?
The answer to this question created a mindset shift that I have to share with you because it’s important. And it’s best shared in a question:
What if your glory days are in front of you instead of behind you?
What if in the future, when you’re 92 or 96, you’re going to look back and realize that you reached your full potential in your 40s or 50s or 60s instead of your 20s or 30s? And if you can imagine that scenario, then you can make it a reality because it can be a reality. You just have to stop procrastinating and stop researching and stop saying “someday” and sign up for the damn thing or join the damn team and do it. Today. Right after you read this. Put your money down.
As for me….
In my second practice I did some time trials to see what my times were like in the events I wanted to compete in: 50 free, 100 free, 50 fly, 100 fly, 200 fly (maybe)…
Then I looked at what in Masters Swimming is called the Top 10 List.
This is the list of the top 10 times in the United States for each event, distance and age group. In Masters Swimming it’s a big deal. It means you’re one of the fastest ten swimmers in the whole country in your age group.
My goal was to train my ass off and try to make the list in one event in my first year.
And using my newfound, “fuck it, we ball” mentality, I signed up and paid for a Masters Invitational Meet at the Swimming Hall of Fame in Fort Lauderdale in early November of ‘24. I trained HARD for that meet. Four and five days a week. Dryland exercises. Butterfly sprints until I almost puked…
And guess what?
I found out last week that my 100 meter short course butterfly time in that meet qualified me for Top 10 (number 9, to be exact). I made the damn list.
Even better, my kids are watching me. They see the hard work. They see the results. They share the wins. And I can’t tell you how good it all feels. And how excited I am to improve this year.
Now onto the Top 5.
Thanks for reading, fellas. Now go start your own comeback.
– Jon
Jon Finkel is the Editor-in-Chief of Midlife Male.
