Breaking News: This author is getting old. Okay, at least ‘older.’ No longer am I a spry, twenty-something Team Guy who can drink all night, then wake up in the morning and finish a grueling SEAL monster mash — including obstacle courses, running, and swimming — at a breakneck pace. These days, I would need a couple of weeks to train for such an event, and about seven hours of restful sleep the night before, not to mention a couple of days afterward to recover.
Even with all that, I would still probably not be all that fast, at least when compared to the younger guys. Hell, I am hardly even a mostly-spry thirty-something anymore. I have crested the hill. I am on the verge of starting the downward slide, as forty knocks on my door. As Donald Trump would say, “Sad!”
What that means, as far as my fitness goes, is that I have to be a little bit more careful. I have to tend to my body a bit more. I have to be more aware of potential injuries that can take longer to heal. I have to stretch and warm up and all that silly crap that I never worried about when I was twenty-two. Do not get me wrong, I still get a little crazy with workouts — I did a 20-mile trail race a few months back that kicked my ass — but they are fewer and farther between, and I am more choosy about what I will attempt.
This author also happens to be a professional firefighter, however, and that means that I have to stay physically fit. I need to be fit to fight fire, which means having some aerobic capacity, the strength to drag hose, victims, and my fellow firefighters into and out of burning structures. I also need the mobility to perform manual labor in those burning structures, while wearing heavy gear, an air mask, and a self-contained breathing apparatus (SCBA).