SINGAPORE: A couple of weeks ago, I found out that the muscular neighbour who lived in the block next to mine had suddenly and tragically passed away - from what seemed to be a heart condition.
This I found out while chatting with another neighbour - who, despite being in his early 50s himself, was also in good shape - mostly due to his line of work in the uniformed service. This inevitably left me, a 50-year-old father of three who is in the worst shape of his life, questioning if I’m doing enough.
Unfortunately, from what I see on social media these days, I’m clearly not doing enough. I don’t have a gym membership and I’m not part of any casual sporting fraternity anymore. In fact, I haven’t jogged further than 5km in the past decade.
However, the fitness influencer industry seems to have collectively agreed that as far as fitness is concerned, my descent into pear-shaped unclehood is my failing, and I had better follow, like and subscribe to their platforms to better myself.
So while I did re-evaluate my overall health upon learning of the death of my neighbour, I am under no illusion that the answers lie in the prolific TikTok videos of a 20-something influencer squatting ridiculously heavy weights in sponsored athleisure outfits.
While I do agree that my downward spiral into rotundness can be better mitigated with an improved diet and more rigorous exercise, I refuse to submit that this thickness was attained without good reason.
Sure, it may sound like the lamentation and excuses of a lazy dad, but yes, work and being a present husband and father do take time. And it is time well spent.
Plus, it’s not like I’ve totally abandoned the notion of general fitness. I’m still striving my level best to inject some strength training via the use of kettlebells - as soon and as often as I have any window of opportunity to swing those insane cannonballs in the courtyard of my HDB estate.
But alas, it appears it is still not often enough - and I am aware of the shortcomings of an “optimised” exercise programme designed to keep baseline fitness, or rather, the bare minimum, intact. This is especially so when my metabolism now plods along like an old war horse on its last supply mission. And even when I do get the consistency in, these old bones creak with the melody of injuries old that coupled with my recovery rate ensure I walk like a limp orangutan for three days longer than I should.
So what is enough then? I think it really depends on what is truly important to you.
Just to be clear, I am not proud of what I see in the mirror. My wife is also gravely worried about my expanding torso. She has tried all manner of motivational strategies to get me to commit to a more intense fitness regime.
From poking my belly in jest, which hurts in more ways than one, to cooking healthier meals for a biryani-obsessed husband - I applaud her efforts, and I recognise and appreciate her concerns.
But this belly - on which my children love to bump their heads on - is symbolic of my fatherhood journey.
For every ripped late 50s man the likes of Chuando Tan, there are thousands of average men like me who have learned to accept the fact that we do what we can - in line with what is most important to us.
Between spending two hours at the gym and watching a Netflix movie with my kids while sharing a bowl of popcorn and talking about comedy genre tropes and conventions - the choice of the latter is crystal clear.
Between planning a meal prep for better nutrition and going on a date night with my wife to decimate a Korean BBQ buffet, my answer to you is “BURP”.
While these may sound like the usual “I have sacrificed my body for my family” narrative - the fatherhood rabbit hole goes way deeper than that.
Imran Johri with his wife and children. (Photo: Imran Johri)
I actually know what it is like to be a fitness monster. Been there, done that.
When I got divorced at 30, I decided, of all things, to become a ninja. Not a literal one, but a metaphorical, 10-per-cent body fat, superhero-spandex physique type that I had always wanted to be.
It was an insane target, and it took six-day training weeks for about a year of alternating boxing, jiujitsu, core training and hours of gym sessions to finally reach my goal.
And when I got there, the only thing I knew then was how hard it was to stay functionally ripped as hell. And that the only practical benefit was that I was eligible again in the dating game. And that kids - is how I met your mother.
Imran Johri once had the six-pack and the shredded arms, but it took six-day training weeks for about a year to get that physique. (Photo: Imran Johri)
To be clear, this is not about finding a wife through fitness training. But the fact is all that painstaking muscularity eventually gave way to absolute joyous memories of time spent raising my children and spending time with my family - unobscured by any form of strict exercise regimes.
So this is for all the men in their 50s struggling with their fitness and mortality. If you’ve never been the beast you were destined to be - go become one, but be forewarned, it comes with a heavy price. But if you have, then do what you can to sustain your health, but do know that it’s also ok to put the young savage out to pasture and celebrate the growing memories contained within that hearty belly.
As for you, young fitness gurus - go ahead, attain and claim your beastliness. You don’t have to tell the old dogs how important it is. We already know.
Imran Johri is a marketing and editorial professional and a father of three.
Continue reading...
This I found out while chatting with another neighbour - who, despite being in his early 50s himself, was also in good shape - mostly due to his line of work in the uniformed service. This inevitably left me, a 50-year-old father of three who is in the worst shape of his life, questioning if I’m doing enough.
Unfortunately, from what I see on social media these days, I’m clearly not doing enough. I don’t have a gym membership and I’m not part of any casual sporting fraternity anymore. In fact, I haven’t jogged further than 5km in the past decade.
However, the fitness influencer industry seems to have collectively agreed that as far as fitness is concerned, my descent into pear-shaped unclehood is my failing, and I had better follow, like and subscribe to their platforms to better myself.
Related:
GO SQUAT YOURSELF SILLY
So while I did re-evaluate my overall health upon learning of the death of my neighbour, I am under no illusion that the answers lie in the prolific TikTok videos of a 20-something influencer squatting ridiculously heavy weights in sponsored athleisure outfits.
While I do agree that my downward spiral into rotundness can be better mitigated with an improved diet and more rigorous exercise, I refuse to submit that this thickness was attained without good reason.
Sure, it may sound like the lamentation and excuses of a lazy dad, but yes, work and being a present husband and father do take time. And it is time well spent.
Plus, it’s not like I’ve totally abandoned the notion of general fitness. I’m still striving my level best to inject some strength training via the use of kettlebells - as soon and as often as I have any window of opportunity to swing those insane cannonballs in the courtyard of my HDB estate.
But alas, it appears it is still not often enough - and I am aware of the shortcomings of an “optimised” exercise programme designed to keep baseline fitness, or rather, the bare minimum, intact. This is especially so when my metabolism now plods along like an old war horse on its last supply mission. And even when I do get the consistency in, these old bones creak with the melody of injuries old that coupled with my recovery rate ensure I walk like a limp orangutan for three days longer than I should.
So what is enough then? I think it really depends on what is truly important to you.
WHO’S THAT OLD MAN IN THE MIRROR?
Just to be clear, I am not proud of what I see in the mirror. My wife is also gravely worried about my expanding torso. She has tried all manner of motivational strategies to get me to commit to a more intense fitness regime.
From poking my belly in jest, which hurts in more ways than one, to cooking healthier meals for a biryani-obsessed husband - I applaud her efforts, and I recognise and appreciate her concerns.
But this belly - on which my children love to bump their heads on - is symbolic of my fatherhood journey.
For every ripped late 50s man the likes of Chuando Tan, there are thousands of average men like me who have learned to accept the fact that we do what we can - in line with what is most important to us.
Between spending two hours at the gym and watching a Netflix movie with my kids while sharing a bowl of popcorn and talking about comedy genre tropes and conventions - the choice of the latter is crystal clear.
Between planning a meal prep for better nutrition and going on a date night with my wife to decimate a Korean BBQ buffet, my answer to you is “BURP”.
While these may sound like the usual “I have sacrificed my body for my family” narrative - the fatherhood rabbit hole goes way deeper than that.
Imran Johri with his wife and children. (Photo: Imran Johri)
Related:
BE A BEAST, THEN A FATHER, NOT THE OTHER WAY AROUND
I actually know what it is like to be a fitness monster. Been there, done that.
When I got divorced at 30, I decided, of all things, to become a ninja. Not a literal one, but a metaphorical, 10-per-cent body fat, superhero-spandex physique type that I had always wanted to be.
It was an insane target, and it took six-day training weeks for about a year of alternating boxing, jiujitsu, core training and hours of gym sessions to finally reach my goal.
And when I got there, the only thing I knew then was how hard it was to stay functionally ripped as hell. And that the only practical benefit was that I was eligible again in the dating game. And that kids - is how I met your mother.
Imran Johri once had the six-pack and the shredded arms, but it took six-day training weeks for about a year to get that physique. (Photo: Imran Johri)
To be clear, this is not about finding a wife through fitness training. But the fact is all that painstaking muscularity eventually gave way to absolute joyous memories of time spent raising my children and spending time with my family - unobscured by any form of strict exercise regimes.
So this is for all the men in their 50s struggling with their fitness and mortality. If you’ve never been the beast you were destined to be - go become one, but be forewarned, it comes with a heavy price. But if you have, then do what you can to sustain your health, but do know that it’s also ok to put the young savage out to pasture and celebrate the growing memories contained within that hearty belly.
As for you, young fitness gurus - go ahead, attain and claim your beastliness. You don’t have to tell the old dogs how important it is. We already know.
Imran Johri is a marketing and editorial professional and a father of three.
Continue reading...