A Day on the Slopes at 86

The red-orange glow of the early morning sunrise peeked behind the Fourteeners of Gray and Torreys as I brewed my morning coffee in Frisco yesterday. I had risen early to do my exercises before my son, John, arrived to pick me up for a day of downhill skiing at Copper Mountain.

 

Photo by Bill Reynolds

It turned out to be the kind of day an 86-year-old needs—sunny and not too cold, but cold enough for long johns. The day began with a ride on the Flyer chairlift. Getting off the chair these days is harder than it used to be—I can still do it, but I’ve come to appreciate the balance and agility I once had.

 

I stuck to groomed blue runs, gazing longingly at the bowls above me, accessible only to expert double-black-diamond skiers. (The older I get, the better I used to be.) Yet, when we reached the top of the Resolution Chairlift, I felt immense gratitude just to be standing there, taking in the breathtaking views—the Gore Range to the north and the Tenmile Range to the south.

John and Bill Reynolds

We ended the day with another blue run, having skied about 8,000 vertical feet and hitting 36 miles per hour on our final descent. I look forward to skiing again, both with my family and the few friends my age who are still carving turns down the mountain.

 

Exercise: The Ultimate Longevity and Happiness Drug

Physical activity is essential for my happiness. As Dr. Peter Attia writes in Outlive: The Science and Art of Longevity, “Exercise is the most potent pro-longevity drug.” I’d take it a step further—it’s also a happiness drug. In fact, I’ve been addicted to this “happiness drug” for most of my life.

 

My passion for fitness started young, inspired by my mother. She grew up on a farm, walking two miles to school, tackling daily chores, and excelling at sports, including golf. I loved tagging along with her and my sister to my grandfather’s farm—driving the tractor, hunting birds, playing in the water. I even milked a cow. And I’ll never forget the time my grandmother chopped a chicken’s head off—it ran around for a few seconds before stopping, and later, we ate it for dinner.

 

Blood flow throughout the body is why Dr. Attia considers exercise a longevity drug. For me, cardiovascular workouts also lead to “aha” moments, when my mind is flooded with endorphins. From grade school on, sports were a way of life. I spent most afternoons playing pickup games. In junior high, I played football and other seasonal sports. I started skiing back when skis didn’t even have steel edges. In high school, college, and the Navy, I focused on golf, lettering in both skiing and golf in high school.

 

After getting married, I convinced my wife, Jane, to start running. Together, we ran marathons—including a 50-miler along the Folsom Reservoir (Johnny Cash territory) in 1984. I ran in the mountains, sometimes alone, sometimes with Jane, sometimes with friends, and always with our dog. Later, I took up biking—at one point commuting to work by bike even in the winter.

My love for cycling took me across the world with Butterfield & Robinson bike adventures—India, China, Morocco, Italy, France, Austria, New Zealand, and Australia. And today, I still ride my bike to work.

 

The Secret Sauce

I write about my passion for physical activity because I attribute much of my personal and business success to staying mentally and physically fit. Some of my best critical thinking happens during aerobic exercise.

 

The rush of endorphins, the runner’s high, became habit-forming for me. When young people ask me for the secret to success, I always tell them: Start with physical fitness. Make it a lifelong habit—your body and mind will thank you.