I Turned My 65th Birthday Into a Bodybuilding Challenge

Prior to that light-bulb moment, I was fairly active, walking a couple of miles a day and hitting the gym a few times a week. My diet was another story. I tended to overeat at times and had a particular weakness for doughnuts, ice cream and pizza.

The looming bodybuilding contest reinvigorated my workouts. Rather than stroll through our Arizona neighborhood, I hiked in the nearby hills. And rather than doing cursory weight circuits at the gym, I added many sets and lifted with intensity. 

December, however, is a tough month to start a diet, what with Christmas cookies and other treats conspiring against me. So I was still 230 pounds on January 1st, though it was redistributed somewhat more appealingly.

I altered my lifting schedule at the beginning of the year, working my back and biceps on Tuesdays and Saturdays, and my chest, shoulders and triceps on Wednesdays and Sundays. I did 18 sets a week for each of those body parts, which is in the range of what the experts recommend.

I handled my legs and stomach differently. My knees couldn’t handle that many sets, so I did three sets each of leg presses and toe raises on Tuesdays and Saturdays. I also did four sets of various sit-ups every workout, usually between 25 and 100 repetitions.

From experience, I know that any exercise that involves lifting my legs puts too much strain on my lower back. So I stuck with crunches, inclines and plain-vanilla sit-ups. On days I wasn’t in the gym, I took our dog, Buddy, for hikes in the hills. 

At the beginning of March, I weighed 219 pounds. Most days I’d have a strawberry-banana smoothie for breakfast, a protein bar and pack of raisins for lunch, and a balanced meal for dinner, such as chicken, rice and carrots. I cut out all snacks and desserts along with my favorite foods … mostly. I did slip up occasionally and indulge in pizza and other treats.

Yet another challenge to my plan occurred at the gym in early January. While doing lateral raises with dumbbells, I felt a sharp pain in my right shoulder. I immediately stopped the exercise and treated it with ice when I got home.

The shoulder continued to bother me on and off for months afterward. To cope with the nagging injury, I adjusted my routine: The only shoulder exercises I did were various overhead presses, executed slowly with light weights, typically for 12 to 18 repetitions.

The rest of my aging dad bod responded well to the diet and exercise. By April, my abs were starting to emerge like flagstones from the mud. I never attained the coveted six-pack — it was more a fuzzy four-pack — but my paunch was gone, and it was nice to see some definition there.

A few days before the contest, I weighed 210 pounds. Not as light as I’d hoped to be, but not bad. I thought about getting a wax treatment to remove the hair on my forearms and elsewhere; that’s rather expensive, though, so I made do with a razor.

After we checked into our hotel, I drove a few miles in dense traffic to the Plaza Hotel and Casino. There, I passed the required polygraph test, administered by the Organization of Competitive Bodybuilders (OCB) to ensure competitors have not used steroids or other banned substances.

That evening, when Jules had about forgiven me for my surprise news, I asked her to shave my ursine back. Just like that, I was back in the doghouse.

The next morning, I headed over to the Plaza again. I was entered in the 50-and-over Men’s Physique category, which prizes an athletic appearance rather than sheer muscle mass.

When it came time to pose, I felt a bit sheepish about my decision to eschew the recommended spray tan. Most of the competitors had a skin tone, natural or otherwise, that ranged from coffee with cream to deep mahogany. As for my own skin tone, well, the old song “A Whiter Shade of Pale” comes to mind.

I took third place! But I should note that there were only three of us in that particular category. Still, the other gentlemen were more than a dozen years younger than me, so I didn’t feel too bad. 

That afternoon, sauntering around with Jules, I felt light, at ease and far younger than my years. And yes, a tad smug.

AARP essays share a point of view in the author’s voice, drawn from expertise or experience, and do not necessarily reflect the views of AARP.