It's all about the quality

 As we get older our concerns in life change.  And since, clearly, the older we get the nearer we are to our own eventual end, the subject of death, our own death, and our health more widely, becomes an increasingly common preoccupation.  I have no fear of being dead.  I know it will be the same it was before I was born - nothingness.  But the dying bit, and the possible pain and suffering that could entail, well I'm not so keen on those aspects.  So my focus on my own health isn't about prolonging my life for as long as possible, but trying to ensure that for however many years I do have left I'm in good enough condition to enjoy them.  Still as physically and mentally sharp as my body will allow me to be.

Advice on what that entails seems to change with time, but most of the basics are pretty obvious.  For all that a great deal of our future to our unalterable genetic inheritance, and the way we've lived life to date, there's still benefits to be had in eating healthily, and exercising brain and body regularly.  I intend to be as responsible for my own decline as circumstances allow.

In the past much of the emphasis has been on aerobic fitness as one of the best ways to prolong health as we age.  Recent thinking suggests that maintaining decent muscle tone is as, or even more, important in ensuring that getting older doesn't mean gradual incapacity.  So a bit of physical exercise every day, including some weight resistance activity.  Nothing too strenuous, just enough to make sure everything is kept in reasonable working order.  And looking for new ideas, new games, new mental challenges to keep the mind exercised too.    

I intend to keep trying to do what's needed for me to be able to do the things I most want to do - getting out every day, walking a few kilometres each day, getting myself to gigs and plays and films, reading and writing and laughing.  And for as many years as possible.

Six years ago I was diagnosed with gout.  I took the doctor's advice, and sought out information on the internet, and adjusted my diet accordingly.  Which mostly meant drinking at least five pints of water each day, and no alcohol.  Although I now consume a very occasional glass of the latter, my overall consumption must be more than 90% less than it was before the diagnosis, and I continue to take water like I'd just emerged from the Sahara.  I know of other gout sufferers who have chosen to ignore this approach, and still happily down their pints and drams as they always did.  While I can understand reluctance to give up old habits, I never liked the drink so much that I'd want to risk the pain of another gout attack, or, more importantly, the inconvenience it can bring.  Being housebound is not my idea of enjoying life (nor crawling about the flat on all fours, as I did during the worst bout - Barbara thought we'd acquired a dog...).  

Quality, not quantity, is what matters.