When One Fitness System Is No Longer Enough

I want one clear answer. My body disagrees.

Welcome to Age with Attitude, where I explore one question:

What sustains a life as we age?

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Photo by Peloton

There are three movement systems speaking to me right now, and they do not all speak the same language.

Peloton did not just give me exercise. It gave me a way into my day.

My Peloton bike sits beside my desk on a black mat embossed with a big ‘P’, red-and-black bike shoes underneath. It speaks to me. It reminds me how much I love the ease and joy of it: clip in, choose a ride, build a sweat, sing at the top of my voice, high-five others on the ride, and walk away with an endorphin boost that lasts. I feel alive.

Then there’s the nerdy end-of-month tracking. On the first of each month, I check how many minutes I have accumulated toward my goal of 20K minutes of exercise for the year. I record my numbers for cycling, walking, strength, Pilates, yoga, and meditation in a separate spreadsheet from my HRV one.

Did I earn Bronze, Silver, or Gold for each during the month? Oh no, I was a smidge short of Gold. Should have checked that before the end of the month.

This is what pulls me into my day. A whole system that seamlessly drives behaviour. A workout before breakfast. A blue dot accumulating to over 1600 days of continuous exercise.

It’s where I interact with a global community of like-minded fitness enthusiasts. I follow other Peloton grannies, in awe of what some of them are doing. I’m part of a 10,000-strong Facebook group of Peloton over-60s. I even joined a third-party group that curates Peloton rides into challenging six-week programs.

It is my happy place. I had planned to still be inside that system when I turn 90, like Rose, whose family flew her from Chicago to Peloton London to do a studio ride with her favourite instructor for her 90th birthday.

It is not just a bike.

It is a world.

It’s who I am and what I do.

However, over recent years, my body has had a say. Knee tendinopathy slowed me down. Even my beloved hiking started taking a toll.

My 60s humbled me. I had built an identity around the Peloton system, and it was slipping away from me. What was missing?

Two years ago, I came across Vanja.Moves. She was screaming mobility from the rooftops. It is hard to argue that years of sitting have not reduced our mobility. Ankles locked. Hips immovable. Knees have become the victim joint. A perfect storm as we age.

This spoke to me.

Once I saw the truth of mobility, I could not unsee it.

Her answer, amongst all the noise, was simple: squat, hang, crawl, move. This was not just another exercise program. It was a lifestyle to inhabit. The body as something we live in, not just something we train. It expanded my perspective on movement as a way of life.

I purchased her program. I am still doing it two years later.

I learned to squat for one minute, then built to five minutes, then ten at a time, eventually accumulating thirty minutes in a day. Believe me, it does get easier.

Frank fashioned a hang bar on the verandah. Even now, the best I can do is thirty seconds, and my toes are still resting on the ground.

Crawling is interesting. A long way to go.

While watching TV, I sit on the floor to gradually release my ankles, knees, hips, and spine.

But the conflict was real. I just wanted to be a Peloton cyclist, but I could not get the truth of Vanja’s mobility lifestyle out of my head.

Two systems.

Now I had to think, rather than simply be pulled into my day by a Peloton done-for-me exercise plan. Now I had to ask: how do I fit all of this into a day, or even a week?

Then osteoporosis entered the room, and the conversation changed again.

Osteoporosis best practice is lifting heavy and impact training. Peloton dumbbells, and even the recently added Jump training, cannot meet the requirements for building bone density set out in the well-researched Liftmor and Onero programs.

The evidence is strong. The protocol is tested. The necessity is hard to ignore.

I purchased a starter set of barbells, and I am cautiously making progress with deadlifts and squats. But I will need more equipment to progress squats.

So now I have three systems that will not collapse into one simple protocol.

My whole career was built on simplifying systems and creating efficiency. I am an expert at it. And here I am, unable to collapse multiple movement systems into a single, simple answer.

I can no longer reach my monthly Peloton targets. I have had to let it go in favour of impact training like walking, jumping, and stepping. I miss the ease of Peloton.

Movement for life is not a simple system either. It takes extra brain bandwidth. Suddenly, movement is a lifestyle rather than a done-by-breakfast-and-get-on-with-the-day system.

Lifting for bone density requires a gym setup with more than the standard set of barbells I currently have. And I am not sure there is any more space in my house.

The tension is real.

My one beloved system is no longer enough. Capability has become more demanding.

I keep wanting to simplify it into one system I can trust.

One app.

One protocol.

One answer.

But my body keeps refusing that kind of neatness.

Peloton still matters because joy matters.

Vanja matters because mobility is truth.

Onero matters because bones need load, not sentiment.

This may be one of the harder lessons of aging well: not everything that matters can be folded into one elegant system.

Some truths have to stand beside each other.

Peloton pulls me.

Vanja invites me.

Onero obliges me.

But right now, the honest answer is clear.

Bone density has to move to the top of the priority list. Not because it is the system I love most, but because it is the truth my body is asking me to respect.

It’s not an easy ride anymore.

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