I’m Old, But Not that Old

My wife Nancy and I recently spent Shabbos in Calabasas at the home of our friends, Rachelle and Mark. We drove the 26 miles, which in Los Angeles could take three days, but we were lucky that God parted the 405 North for us. 

We arrived around 6 p.m. on Friday, and even though we were invited to stay over Saturday night, we declined because my son and his family were headed to Florida that night. Besides the free babysitting, we are the family airport Uber drivers. 

Our 27 hours in Calabasas with Rachelle and Mark was a perfect Shabbat and mini-vacation, a chance to lower the flame on our hectic everyday lives. We ate, davened, learned Torah, ate, had great conversations, played Rummikub, napped, and ate again. Rachelle is a wonderful cook; we are excellent eaters and took full advantage. 

On Friday night before Shabbos started, Rachelle drove her husband, Mark, and me to shul about a mile away. After shul, Mark asked me if I wanted to walk the long way or the short way back to his house. I said, “Long.” Once you move into your 70s, people ask you if you can still walk.  

We’ve all heard the stories about people who dropped dead exercising. People never seem to drop dead while roasting marshmallows to make s’mores. For years, I’ve been asked, “Would you rather I drop you in front of the restaurant?” Even at supermarkets, when checking out, they ask me if I need help to my car. I must look worse than I think. To Mark’s credit, he only asked twice over Shabbat, not 52 times like others. 

Nancy and I exercise, but we are nowhere in the league of these two. The ladies went for a walk on Saturday; later, Mark and I did, too. Once again, he asked me if I wanted to take the big hills or an easier route. “Big,” I said. And let me tell you, those babies were tough. We passed a mountain goat lying on his side, clutching his chest. 

During our climb, Mark and I chatted about our grandkids, how we wanted to hang out and play with them, and that grandparenting should not be a spectator sport.  

I already have a few friends who need help walking. Some are unlucky, and others won’t listen. The statistics show that exercise helps in more ways than you could imagine. 

After Shabbos, Nancy told me she got a text from our daughter-in-law Anna that they had to go to Atlanta instead of their Florida vacation. Anna’s 96-year-old grandfather Poppy, a wonderful man, died. It seems he woke up in the morning, told his caretaker that he was going to die, and then sat in his chair and died.  

For the last 10 or so years, Poppy would wake up between 1 a.m. and 2 a.m. and work out for an hour and a half to two hours before returning to bed. Then a friend would pick him up at 5 a.m., and he would go to the gym and exercise for another hour or two. His go-to exercise was a combo of running, biking and weights for curling. Then he walked across the street to meet his friends for coffee.  

Did it improve his later years? Probably. 

How many people were encouraged by the late Richard Simmons or Jack LaLanne? The answer is millions. When I see someone doing what I think might be helpful, I ask them what they do and how they do it. I ask, ask, ask. As my internist, Dr. Mark Hyman, says, “There is nothing wrong with more information.”

When I see someone doing what I think might be helpful, I ask them what they do and how they do it. I ask, ask, ask. As my internist, Dr. Mark Hyman, says, “There is nothing wrong with more information.” 

I have battled high blood pressure and high cholesterol, ate poorly, and drank and smoked for decades. To live a rich life, I need to remain active and teachable. Then I need to act upon what I learned. I have too much to live for, and with any luck, I won’t have to trade it for that chair anytime soon. After a beautiful Havdalah, we said our goodbyes to Rachelle and Mark, put on our Uber hats and drove the kids to the airport. Thank you, God, for Shabbos.

Mark Schiff is a comedian, actor and writer, and hosts, along with Danny Lobell, the “We Think It’s Funny” podcast. His new book is “Why Not? Lessons on Comedy, Courage and Chutzpah.”