The Smashing Pumpkins and Subjective Age Bias

A personal trainer on the trials and tribulations of aging

The author at age 35 (l) and at age 59 (r)

Every once in a while, something happens that crystallizes the passage of time. For me, those moments are usually rooted in pop culture.

Recently, The Smashing Pumpkins turned their monster album Melon Collie and the Infinite Sadness into an opera to celebrate the album’s 30th anniversary.

Thirty years? How is that even possible? That was the soundtrack to my youth. Hearing about that evoked infinite wistfulness.

But that disconnect paled in comparison to a recent photo shoot I sat for with my friend Phil.

Phil had generously offered to take some head shots for my blog and had suggested some dates. I delayed the photo shoot several times. Some of it was due to scheduling conflicts, but some of it was for reasons I couldn’t quite articulate. There was something about the process that made me apprehensive.

Even if the photographer is a close friend (as Phil is), the experience of being photographed is emotionally taxing. The prism through which you’re being seen is inhuman, even if the person wielding it isn’t. Phil assured me throughout the process that he was getting some great shots that captured the “essence” of who I was. (Assumedly, the occasional bouts of selfishness and immaturity would be cropped out.)

When he sent back the photos a few days later, I had a visceral reaction.

“There’s something wrong with your camera.”

In my mind, I’m the same age I was when I last sat for a portrait — about 35 years old. In the pictures Phil sent me, I was looking squarely at a man in late middle-age. Or rather, he was looking at me. It was totally discombobulating. That photo shoot might’ve been the exact moment that it finally dawned on me: as of next year, I’ll be 60. Equidistant to 85 as I am to 35. And yet, for years I’ve pretended otherwise.

There’s certainly a good amount of vanity and self-delusion in this reaction. And since I’m in a very youth-oriented profession, perhaps an emotional buffer zone as well. But the reality is that I’m not an outlier. There’s even a name for my cognitive dissonance: “subjective age bias.”

Many people over the age of 40 report feeling 20 percent younger than they actually are, according to one study. The reasons for this discrepancy are manifold. Feeling younger can yield positive health benefits and a greater sense of self-esteem, which, in turn, can actually positively impact longevity.

Taken too far, of course, the chasm between perceived age and actual age can precipitate a mid-life crisis. The reality is that even as my mind was telling me I was 35, my body was insisting it’s almost 60. Put a little differently, getting out of bed in the morning at my age is Mother Nature’s way of saying “Wait … you’re still here?”

The way I exercise also reflects the reality of who I am now, rather than who I was in my 20s and 30s. There are certain non-negotiable elements to my regimen that reflect the exigencies of aging. Here are the changes I’ve made to my workouts to reflect the fact that I’m no longer in the prime of my youth:

#1 I don’t forget to train my hands and feet.

Walk into any gym today and ask to meet with a fitness professional. Tell them you really want to target two specific areas — your hands and your feet. Prepare for a blank, quizzical stare.

In a sense, this is understandable. We’re programmed to appreciate certain anatomical parts that are visible and sought after. Shredded abs. Bulging biceps. Gloriously rounded glutes. But there are other anatomical parts equally — if not more — important. The hands and feet are two of them.

Grip strength has been correlated with longevity. One reason is that if you fall, you need to hoist yourself back up again. Good grip strength is obviously crucial for this. And, although its seems totally obvious, your feet are the shock absorbers for the body. Ask anyone with flat feet about this. This goes double for people with bad knees. I do exercises to strengthen my feet almost every day.

#2 I don’t ignore my posterior chain.

We all want a beautiful butt. That’s a given. But how many of us want a strong butt? Furthermore, how many of us understand the importance of having strong glutes? And strong, flexible hamstrings? The answer is simple — everything is interconnected. And your glutes and hamstrings are neighbors with a very important muscle group you don’t want to piss off or injure: your back. The stronger your glutes, hamstrings, and ab muscles are, the stronger your back will be. And the more flexible your hamstrings are, the less apt you are to throw out your back doing mundane things. I do “bridges” and “supermans” as a regular part of my routine.

#3 I don’t skip the stretching.

See above. I usually stretch for 20 to 30 minutes every day, making sure to target my lower back, glutes, hamstrings, and shoulder/neck complex.

#4 If something’s gotta give in the routine, it won’t be strength training.

We have limited time in the day. Given the choice on days between less (or no) cardio and strength training, I’m going to choose the latter. I’m not saying that cardio isn’t important. It is, for a myriad of reasons. I’m a cyclist. It’s my zen. But as long as I can walk up a hill, it doesn’t matter in the slightest how fast I can get up it. That’s a performance metric, not a functional one.

Strength training, on the other hand, is imperative to mitigate muscle and bone density loss. It’s non-negotiable.

#5 I prioritize sleep.

Or at least I try to. I’m actually a bit of a prima donna about it. I know many people think it’s “boring” to set your schedule around a circadian rhythm. I’m happy to be boring. Give me a good night sleep and a strong cup of coffee in the morning, and I’m a happy man. And a healthy one. Sleep is intimately related to health and longevity, and it should be prioritized.

#6 My friendships matter.

Many of us have heard about the “loneliness crisis.” Perhaps it comes across as a media creation, or a bit of hyperbole. It isn’t. It’s real. And it impacts middle-aged men more than any other group.

One of the best things you can do for your health is also one of the easiest: call a good friend and have an extended conversation. Or, better yet, go meet them in person.

My friend Craig (Phil’s brother) had a great quote: “We revere antiquity in our things, but revile it in our faces.”

It’s an artful statement that masks a bitter conundrum. An entire industry has been built around reconciling that difference. And it begs the question: is there a compromise between “raging against the dying of the light” and senescence?

My aging body has been planted on terra firma for quite some time now. It creaks. It sags. It sighs. My mind, however, has been intent on tripping down Memory Lane. It pays no heed to what is occurring on its Southern borders.

Phil’s camera brought all that tension into focus.

There are lines on my face. Less hair on my head. Extra folds of flesh beneath my chin. I’m no longer at the tail end of my youth, but at the beginning of being elderly. Instead of maximizing my physical gifts, I’m carefully managing their decline.

And yet, if given the chance to forsake the middle-aged man in the photo, would I opt to be the younger man in the corresponding photo? Not a chance. I’m happier, more fulfilled, and have a much greater sense of what’s truly important in life. Above all, I’m a father.

I called Phil not long after he had taken the photos and explained the gamut of emotions that I had experienced.

He took it all in and gave a thoughtful pause before answering.

“Well,” he said, “all of that stuff comes free of charge.”