The Sport of Life: My Personal Centenarian Decathlon
I’m not training for a race. I’m not chasing six-pack goals. I’m training for something more radical: to still be thriving at 95 — moving with ease, carrying my groceries with pride, and hopefully still doing a little celebratory skip now and then.
This is the Sport of Life. And after a lifetime of navigating chronic pain, a back injury, a brain injury, and the kind of low moments that force you to look at the ceiling fan mid-rehab and think "Is this it?" — I’m choosing to train for a future that feels joyful and possible.
Inspired by Dr. Peter Attia’s Centenarian Decathlon idea (highly recommend checking out my original blog post on that here), I decided to take it one step further and make it personal. Real-life personal.
Because let’s be honest — I don’t care about maxing out on a deadlift. I care about being able to pick up a chonky dog or a dropped spoon without bracing for disaster.
So here it is. My Very Real, Actually Useful, Not-a-Prehab-Purgatory Centenarian 10.
1. Pick stuff up off the floor without wincing
At 26, I hurt my back so badly that picking up a sock felt like a crisis. I respect the floor now. I train for it. Think: deadlifts, squats, lunges, and learning to lift without leaking energy or panic.
2. Put on lotion while standing
A surprising feat of balance and flexibility. Tree pose, hamstring stretches, and hip flexor mobility keep me limber enough to moisturize without leaning against the sink like a Victorian ghost.
3. Hike — urban or trail, doesn't matter
Because walking is connection. With nature. With myself. With the world. I hike because it heals. And I train for that with lunges, mobility, and cardio that doesn’t crush my soul.
4. Carry groceries across town
My favorite activity: walk 2 miles to the market, fill a backpack with produce and frozen blueberries, and walk back home. This is where farmer’s carries, bicep curls, and shoulder strength really earn their keep.
5. Reach overhead for the good stuff
Like that bag of coffee I shoved on the top shelf. Or a furry friend who needs lifting. Overhead pressing is love in action.
6. Morning yoga, always
I wake up with stretches, not alarms. And I plan to keep doing that for decades. So I show up on my mat now — not to become flexible, but to stay curious and consistent.
7. Twist with ease
Because life asks you to rotate — quickly. Whether it's reversing the car or reacting to a rogue squirrel, I want my core, spine, and neck to be ready.
8. Skip like nobody’s watching
Skipping is my joy language. It’s play. It’s freedom. It’s a nervous system reset. So I skip now — and I dance and I work on fast footwork — so I can keep skipping later.
9. Not falling
The unsung goal of healthy aging. Fast footwork, balance training, and confidence in my center of gravity — these are my non-negotiables.
10. Get off the floor with ease
Each morning I meditate and journal on a yoga block. When I was in pain, that felt impossible. So I train to stay low to the earth, and to rise with grace.
✨ My goal isn’t to be impressive. It’s to be able.
To walk to the market.
To skip because I feel like it.
To carry the groceries, get off the floor, twist toward beauty, and press joy overhead.
This is the sport of life.
And I’m training not just for me — but for the people I love. Because when I feel strong and resourced, I don’t add stress to the people who care for me. That’s real health.
Want to build your own Centenarian Decathlon?
Start by asking: What do I want to still be able to do at 90?
Then reverse engineer it.
And if you’re not sure where to start — that’s what I’m here for.
This is what I do: nature-rooted, functional movement coaching designed for your real life — and the one you want to keep living.
✌️🌿 With love and good glutes,
Lex
