Never Retire: At 50, I Feel Better Than I Did at 30—Without Giving Everything Up
This wasn’t a detox. It turned into something better: rhythm.
I turned 50 last week.
What follows isn’t advice. It’s not a flex. It’s just what works for me.
Want the visual version of this article? Here’s a companion Friki de Bici video.
As I noted in Tuesday’s Never Retire newsletter story, there’s something to the idea of consciously connecting all the elements of your day-to-day life into a larger, comprehensive whole. If something doesn’t fit, consider letting it go. Not everything has to be deep and profound, but if it’s an everyday thing and doesn’t serve a purpose, maybe it’s not worth your time. Maybe it’s throwing what could be structure out of whack.
At least, that’s what I’ve discovered about how I operate.
I feel stronger now, at 50, than I did in my 30s—and that still surprises me. In my late 30s and early 40s, I nearly hit 200 pounds on my 5-foot, 6-inch frame.
Just before the pandemic, I started turning that ship around—mainly by not eating much. When the pandemic hit, I got serious—obsessive even—about eating well, walking, and doing pushups.
Before I knew it, I had dropped about 40 pounds over five years.
It started with diet: less eating and less drinking.
When the pandemic hit—shortly after doing a few tequila shot challenges on Instagram—I cut out drinking almost completely, except for a cider once a week with a takeout meal.
I ate basically the same food every day at the same time and splurged once a week (see above).
For six months, I paired this diet with a ton of walking and, at minimum, 100 pushups per day.
By the time I met my wife—in December 2020—I had dropped the full 40 pounds.
With the reset out of the way, I slowly but surely started to figure things out. Fast-forward four and a half years, and a big part of feeling stronger, clearer, and more in rhythm at 50 is who I share my life with.
Meeting my wife changed a lot of things. Not in the sudden, dramatic way you hear about, but gradually—in ways I didn’t fully understand at first.
We move through life well together. Always up for a bike ride, a walk through the city, a stretch of quiet, people watching, and laughing multiple times a day.
The rhythm just works. My rhythm for work and life. Her rhythm for hers. The rhythm we have together for everything.
Walking and pushups have turned into walking, biking, yoga, and pilates (which includes some pushups!). I don’t feel like I “train” or “work out.” I move every single day.
Some days are intense. Some days are easy. The balance is what’s tricky. Letting go of the sense that you need to do too much—without settling for too little. A focus on movement rather than motivation helps it come together. It creates physical strength and mental clarity I hadn’t felt in years.
I’ve “gotten in shape” before. But it never became a system I stick with.
This time wasn’t a detox or a 90-day challenge. It started as a reset. But it turned into rhythm.
The difference? I wasn’t chasing a distant or isolated goal. I was—whether I realized it or not—building something that fit. Eventually, everything lined up.
Most diets fail. This wasn’t a diet. It was me narrowing in on the handful of things I genuinely love and want to do every day. Then doing them. Again and again.
I Still Drink
I drink most days. Not always. Not a ton. But regularly. And I don’t feel bad about it.
After that six-month reset during the pandemic, I brought alcohol back into my life slowly. I like to drink. It’s that simple. It has an anxiety-reducing effect that—for example—makes me feel more comfortable speaking in Spanish. It’s not like I only speak when I drink, but there’s a time and a place.
It doesn’t derail anything. It’s not a break from being healthy. It doesn’t throw things off. It doesn’t make me feel like I need to “make up for it” the next day. That’s how I know it fits. It’s part of the rhythm.
I’m not saying this to defend drinking or suggest it’s good for you. I’m just being honest about what works for me. I’m not trying to trick myself. I know it counts.
That’s the bigger shift.
It’s not abstinence. It’s alignment.
Like this rhythm? I write Never Retire to show how I live, work, and move without burning out.
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No Escape Needed
Life shouldn’t require a cheat day. Vacation shouldn’t feel like escape. But it’s also okay to skip a ride or yoga class. To take a day off. To reset.
That’s the point.
I’ve built something I can keep doing—consistently.
There’s room in it for a beach day. For a few beers. For falling off a little—being in a bad mood—and getting back to it the next morning without punishment. That’s how I know it’s real.
The structure isn’t fragile. It holds. It adjusts.
It’s rhythm, not rigidity.
That’s what Never Retire is about.
Not running away from work—or your habits—or your life.
It’s about staying in it. Keeping it going. Building something you don’t need to recover from.
I like riding my bike enough as it is, but the minute I realized all the knock on effects (clearer head, giving my eyes a break from the screen, etc.), is when I started loving it.
I think framing it the way you have here would be a much more effective strategy to motivate people than describing it as a "challenge" or some sort of grind. "Your eyes will hurt less, and your mind will clear up" is an easier sell, yaknow?