Live Strong, Die Strong

"I'm going to be so strong when I die."

Clients often inspire me to see our work in new ways. My favorite example of that comes from Victoria.

Victoria is 86. We’ve been training together since 2016. A few years ago she was on the seated row, moving an impressive amount of weight with slow, controlled technique. She paused at peak contraction, kind of rolled her eyes at me like she does when she’s getting close to total fatigue, and she closed her eyes for a moment. She opened her eyes, freshly resolved to finish the set, and declared,

“I’m going to be so strong when I die.”

Victoria’s declaration squeezed my heart and vibrated my brain. Her words lit a fire under me that has continued to be a guiding force of inspiration for why the work I get to do feels relevant and… reverent.

I think that Victoria’s statement signified a major cultural shift: aging used to mean gradually stepping back from physical challenges; now people are stepping toward them. The idea that muscle loss, fragility, and shrinking independence are simply the price of aging is being retired. The masses are no longer accepting that weakness is certain to come with more birthday candles.

I believe strength preserves a certain autonomy… a sturdiness. It allows a person to remain an active participant in their own life for longer. And there is dignity in that.

As a 44-year-old woman who has only in the last two years felt this “aging” in her own body, I get it! I too have the desire to remain strong as I grow older. And I am curious about and inspired by the idea of dying strong. What does that mean, or look like, to die strong?

Part of it is simple: not arriving at the end frail and diminished if we can help it. Carrying muscle, bone, and capacity as far forward into life as possible. (May it be so!)

Maybe it means meeting that final chapter with the same fortitude we cultivated when we were thriving. (May it be so!)

Maybe dying strong means coming to our final exhale in a body that has been challenged and made sturdier for it, and a mind that has known effort and willingness. (May it be so!)

And maybe it means a mysterious kind of strength, the kind required to face the inevitable with presence… with acceptance… with courage. (May it be so!)

Victoria and I still talk about that time when she revealed deep wisdom. These days, for brevity, we just say “live strong, die strong,” and fist bump at the end of her session.

My prayer for all of us is that we take care of ourselves now, increasing the odds that we may live a strong and resilient life. And then maybe we even get to die a strong and resilient death. May it be so.