Outdoors after 50

The one outdoor skill I excelled in over the years? Walking.

Something I presumably mastered by age four, but it’s what I enjoy most: hauling a pack through wild spaces, finding a quiet campsite in the desert to watch the sunset, and enjoying the night sky somewhere at the “edge of nowhere.”

I suspect my life would be much different if I had not shouldered a pack in the White Mountains during one mistake-prone Memorial Day weekend many years ago.

Then a funny thing happened when I got close to fifty.

More than one well-meaning person told me, “Well, enjoy it while you can. You’ll slow down now. You just wait.”

They said it the way someone might warn you about a roof: “It will leak, fail, and ultimately disappoint you.” As if reaching this milestone meant I’d be issued a walker and an AARP welcome kit overnight.

But I didn’t slow down.

With Joan, we get in 90 bag nights a year; we scramble up ledges, walk up peaks, and I recently hiked 500 miles, averaging nearly 20 miles a day with limited daylight.

Not because of some magical snake oil from YouTube ads, or because I found a titanium trekking pole blessed by Grandma Gatewood.

Something much simpler: Instead of relying on the old mantra “the trail will get you fit,” I realized about a decade ago that making fitness and movement part of daily life was far more effective. I stopped letting intense weekend trips and long hikes be my primary form of exercise and instead treated them as benefits of being fit.

When I get the gift of time, I can paddle down the Colorado, hike through canyons, and rediscover the New England mountains and woods that shaped my life.

Back Then: Fitness by “Go Big or Go Home”

In my twenties, I hiked myself into shape by walking all day for weeks at a time. In my thirties, deep in corporate burnout, I coasted on youth, old-trail fitness, and weekend-warrior mileage.

I’d be in decent shape, but it wasn’t sustainable. When stress hit and I skipped weekends, I’d put on weight quickly, lose energy, and fall out of “trail shape.”

That cycle led me to fire myself back in 2017 and get on a path that eventually shaped my current life.

Now: Fitness by Practice

A few years ago, marching past forty, I noticed my stocky frame had grown flabbier than muscular. A wellness exam and my family’s history of high cholesterol confirmed it was time for a change beyond “go big” seasons.

A picture Joan took of us on the sly.

I made weekly exercise a regular part of life — lifting weights, cardio, core work, enjoying biking around town, and getting outside almost every weekend with Joan. I also started paying attention to diet.

That meant weekends didn’t have to be about “crushing it.” They could be anything from an intense solo trip to a relaxed campout to structured rambling. Fitness before the weekend meant I didn’t have to earn it on the weekend.

A photo from Joan on a January trip in the desert.

This approach became apparent during my Walk Across New England (WANE). I covered roughly the same mileage in the White Mountains at 51 that I did at 24.

Same roots, same boulders. Yes, the pack was lighter, and October daylight was limited. But the difference was significant:

I wasn’t using the trail to get fit. I was walking with fitness I had already earned.

Experience + Strength Beats Youth + Stubbornness

I started the Appalachian Trail at 190 lbs. My “training” meant late-night burgers and beers. I finished under 150 lbs!

At 24, I walked myself into shape. At 51, I realized it made more sense to maintain fitness so the outdoors didn’t feel like something to conquer; just something to enjoy.

When you make fitness part of your life before the trail, you don’t finish looking like the trail extracted a toll from you. The journey feels joyful from day one.

Choosing the Right Ground

In all candor, I gravitated toward activities that reward endurance, strength, and patience. Rounding a canyon bend, hauling a pack, moving for hours at an efficient pace… those suited me long before I “discovered” backpacking.

If I had devoted my life to running or tennis, I’d probably notice more decline by 50—those sports reward traits I never possessed. Even young, I was more pack mule than racehorse.

With the Jet Sled variation of my pulk on the way to the 10th Mountain Division Hut. December 2017. PCO Anton S.

Backpacking rewards patience and durability. You don’t need to sprint. You just need to show up, stay consistent, and be willing to keep walking.

About Genetics

Do genetics matter? Sure, but they don’t determine everything.

There’s a photo I treasure of my great-grandfather’s older brother, Ugo. He stayed in the Apennine village from which our family came and worked as the local equivalent of a conservation officer. He’s barrel-chested, broad-shouldered, and still looks strong in his 60s. His olive complexion darkened from a lifetime outdoors.

When I see Ugo, I don’t just see genetics — I see how a life lived outside shapes a person.

My great-grandmother and great-aunt visited the village in the early 1960s to meet relatives of my great-grandfather, who died young. She never stopped loving him. About forty years later, I met the same couple on the right.

My father, his uncle, and I seem to have inherited that build.

My youngest brother and I inherited different parts of the gene pool, but we both work to stay fit in daily life… and we both have to watch cholesterol levels anyway.

He joined me for the hike up Monadnock and picked me up at the end of the journey.

Luck matters. Injuries happen. Some of us get handed fewer tools. But far too often, the real issue is forty hours a week in a chair, too much job stress and exhaustion, followed by occasional “play even harder” in the wilderness.

When stress began to erode my health again recently, I made a decision. And I’m thankful I did.

Fitness after 50 isn’t a genetic lottery. It’s a habit.

Less Crushing It, More Regularity

You don’t need to be an athlete. You just need to stop treating the outdoors like a challenge to conquer.

A realistic plan for enjoying hiking after 50 looks like this:

• Weight training
• Regular intense cardio
• Core strength + flexibility
• Better sleep + a reasonable diet (yes, I still enjoy burgers and beer on weekends!)
• Getting outside consistently — not just for big trips.

The plan above isn’t one-size-fits-all. The key is making regular activity part of your life, not something you do only when you can “crush it.” Do what’s rewarding for you and do it consistently.   ( More nuts-and-bolts info about “training” for a longer hike. )

I go to the dentist twice a year for cleanings. That doesn’t mean I skip brushing and flossing every day. Fitness works the same way.

I realize exercise isn’t a cure-all. I need my glasses more than ever; my brothers and I have genetic traits we must watch, and injuries can take longer to heal.

But staying fit reduces the risk of injury. It helps you handle the outdoors without fading so quickly. And it turns hard miles into something closer to joy than toil.

Our active peers our age enjoy backpacking, skiing, climbing, and canyon routes that most people half our age wouldn’t attempt.

We have a friend in his sixties who hikes routes most twenty-somethings avoid and still tackles Rated X canyons. That’s a life goal!

And, if I do say so, Joan is pretty kick-ass, too — photo from Moab Aerial Events.

The Joy of “It Just Is”

At this stage, I don’t need to crush miles or chase FKTs. I walk because I love it. I sit on a ridge because it’s beautiful, not because Strava needs more data points.

We can push harder when we want to, or sit in camp over pancakes and coffee, watching the desert wake up.

Being fit gives us the choice.

In between backpacking trips in Big Bend National Park.

To quote the Bard of New Jersey:

What I got I have earned
What I’m not I have learned

In my twenties, the trail shaped me because I felt I had to do it. In my fifties, I’m working on enjoying the trail more.

Hiking after 50 isn’t about slowing down. It’s about pacing a life that works best for you.

A trip to the Abajos in early June 2025.