But my body knows it's 57. When I run, I'm losing my 'bounce'. I can feel it. I still do the plyos. I still lift. I still move well. But the 'spring' just isn't the same.
If I trip - and occasionally (!) I do - I don't roll and recover like I did at 30. I land like a sack of spuds. Rigid. Slightly indignant. It's jarring. Despite Pilates. Despite strength work. Despite knowing exactly what to do.
There's a full-blown UN negotiation happening between me and physiology. You simply can't cheat biology. You can only train intelligently inside it. And it comes to all of us.
Recovery is slower. Sleep is lighter. Testosterone hasn't vanished, it's drifted - subtle, quiet, noticeable. Supplements help, but they don't rewind anything.
In your 30s you understand this academically. In your 50s you understand it in your body. And that changes how you look after your patient.
Paediatric physios rightly remind us that children are not just small adults. The same is true at the other end. A 55-year-old is not a slightly worn 30-year-old. Tissue behaves differently. Recovery behaves differently. Risk tolerance behaves differently. Improvement behaves differently.
Some clinicians have beautifully structured post-op rehab pathways for 20, 30 and 40-year-olds - clear timelines, clear milestones, clear RTP metrics. Apply that same pathway blindly to someone thirty years older and you're missing the point. Same surgery. Same ambition, sometimes. Different recovery. Different physiology.
You don't fully grasp that from a textbook. You grasp it when you feel your own 'elasticity' change.
This really isn't a swipe at younger clinicians. Many are excellent, and I've pretty much rated all the ones I've ever had the privilege to work with. It's a vote for mileage. Greyer hair. Saggy skin. Better judgement. Better wine. Because when knowledge and lived experience sit together, treatment deepens and the patient wins - every time.
Experience counts. Just don't count on it alone.