I still love a bit of adventure and the outdoors, but I now have to look at it and do it differently.
Sadly, gone are the days when I could throw a 15kg (33lb) backpack over my shoulders, walk for miles, find somewhere to pitch a tent, and happily spend the night under the stars. Back then, the heavier the pack and the more remote the destination, the better.
These days, my idea of adventure involves rather more forward planning.
Even when I go kayaking, I have to think about things I would never have given a second thought to in the past. Is there an easy-access launch point? How far will I have to carry the kayak? Are there any awkward or lengthy portages along the route? Can I park reasonably close to the water? What might look like a simple paddle on a map can involve quite a bit of logistical planning when your body isn't quite as cooperative as it once was.
Is all this age-related?
Indirectly, yes.
But it isn't necessarily my age itself that prevents me from doing many of the things I once enjoyed. It is the collection of physical problems that have arrived with it — many of which are, at least in part, the result of how I have lived my life for nearly seven decades.
My work-hard, play-hard approach to life has finally caught up with me.
Over the past five years, especially, my body has made its feelings known. Osteoarthritis in both knees, chronic lower-back pain, and a collection of injuries have gradually changed what I can comfortably do. At the moment, shoulder tendonitis is adding another restriction to the list.
For years, I simply got on with things. If something hurt, I carried on. If I was tired, I pushed through it. If an activity was difficult, I somehow found a way around the problem.
Perhaps that worked when I was younger.
It doesn't work quite so well now.
During visits to doctors, hospitals, and various tests, I have increasingly heard phrases such as "at your age" and even the rather less diplomatic "old bones." 😂
For a long time, I would probably have laughed them off.
But eventually, you have to accept reality.
I am getting old.
And there is absolutely nothing wrong with that.
When I finally retired from work last year, at 68, because I had become physically unable to continue doing my job, that reality really hit home. Retirement wasn't simply the end of a career; it was also a point where I had to accept that I couldn't keep living physically as I had done for most of my life.
Would I change the past?
Not a chance.
I've had a bloody good run. I've worked hard, travelled, explored, practised martial arts, enjoyed the countryside, camped, paddled, walked, and generally thrown myself into life.
I wouldn't swap those experiences for anything.
But while I wouldn't change the past, I have had to change the present.
And that means adapting.
These days, my hobbies have evolved into things that allow me to remain active and engaged without constantly fighting against my own body.
Flatwater kayaking has replaced some of the more demanding paddling I once enjoyed. My walks are shorter, but that doesn't mean they have become less interesting. I can spend a few hours wandering through a woodland, exploring a village or visiting a historic place of interest without needing to walk ten miles to feel that I've achieved something.
Sometimes, the journey is simply about slowing down enough to actually notice what is around me.
I've also discovered fishkeeping, which might seem about as far removed from outdoor adventure as you could possibly get.
But in a strange way, it brings some of the outdoors into the house.
There is something wonderfully calming about sitting and watching an aquarium. Maintaining it, learning about the fish and plants, and simply observing what is happening inside that little underwater world gives me another connection with nature.
And then there is video production.
My videos allow me to combine several of the things I still enjoy: getting outdoors, exploring places, history, photography, filming and storytelling — while doing it at a pace that my body can tolerate.
I'm not pretending that I am still the bloke who could strap a huge backpack to his back and disappear into the countryside for days.
I'm not.
But I'm still out there.
And perhaps that is the important bit.
Through my videos, although I am really just being myself and sharing the things that interest me, there is also a quiet message behind them.
You don't necessarily have to be fit, young, strong, or completely mobile to enjoy the outdoors.
You might have to change how you experience it, but that doesn't mean you have to stop experiencing it.
Maybe your adventure is now a short woodland walk rather than a full-day hike. Perhaps it is sitting beside a river instead of paddling several miles. Maybe it is visiting a village and exploring its history rather than climbing a mountain.
And if getting outdoors simply isn't possible on a particular day, that doesn't mean the day has to be wasted.
Find something you can do indoors.
Read. Create. Paint. Build something. Keep fish. Make videos. Learn something new. Plan your next outing. Watch the birds from the window. Do whatever keeps your mind active and your curiosity alive.
Then, when your body gives you another opportunity to get outside, take it.
Because the reality of life is that we are all going to get old.
There is no clever way around it.
Our bodies change, our abilities change, and, eventually, the things we once took for granted may become difficult or impossible.
But growing older doesn't have to mean simply surviving the years that remain.
We can adapt.
We can find different ways of doing the things we love.
We can discover completely new interests.
And we can continue to have adventures, even if those adventures look very different from the ones we had when we were younger.
So yes, I have had to slow down.
I've had to put the big backpack away, shorten my walks, choose my kayaking locations more carefully, and accept that sometimes my body is going to say no.
But I'm still here.
I'm still curious.
I'm still exploring.
I'm still making plans.
And, whenever possible, I'm still getting outdoors.
Perhaps getting older isn't about giving up the things you love.
Perhaps it's about learning how to love them differently.


