DISCLAIMER: This is the quick and dirty english translation of my danish book manuscript – which in itself is in progress. It will all be rewritten in english for the final version. This is just to give you a hint of what I’m working on.
It actually comes from the training term “bulletproof”, which is a commonly used term on the web. It means having trained a body part to be able to withstand anything – to be bulletproof.
In this context, a bulletproof granddad means a tough old geezer who shakes it all off and continues to develop his full potential – physically, mentally and socially. He is the grandfather he himself wished for as a child.
In other words: He takes care of himself to be able to take care of others.
But… before we get started
It might be a good idea to get one thing straight.
I write as a layman without any kind of professional background.
I’mnot a professional sportsman or coach. I have no training in either physiology, sports or nutrition. And at no time before have I worked professionally with this subject. Far from. I have worked bent over a computer for most of my working life and mostly used exercise as a kind of self protection in order to not break down physically.
Everything I write here I have worked with, experienced and researched myself. I have used it again and again and found that it works – for me.
It is what’s in a scientific context is called anecdotal evidence, i.e. real enough for me, but not scientifically substantiated.
But this was never intended to be a dry technical review of facts about exercise and nutrition. On the contrary.
I hope you will consider this book your training buddy. That buddy you can confide in, brag to and who always has your back.
Such a friend, which at our age we unfortunately don’t have as many of as when we were younger. Now those who are left can be hard to coax off the couch and into training.
Having said that, there is plenty of well-researched material in the book – not least about nutrition and physiology. I will make certain to highlight it so you can distinguish between my personal views and hard facts.
I’ve always trained to feel good.
Training as a UN soldier in Cyprus at Camp Viking, 1984. My training buddy Janum: “Just one more. Ooops, flash didn’t fire. Try it again… and again and…”
I’ve always appreciated being in a good shape, but I’ve never trained with a specific goal in mind. I was lucky enough to be born slim without any inclination to put on weight. So it’s mostly been about having a good time.
And yes, of course, looking good.
In the nineties, I roamed around as a freelancer in the Copenhagen newsrooms and illustrations agencies in tight-fitting bike spandex. And I’ve got an inkling that my outfit somehow enhanced my chances for assignments among the many young ladies who populated this industry at the time.
I have to admit, though, that I’m both happy – maybe even relieved – and yet a little sad, that I don’t have a picture from that period of my life.
I have been a soldier, practiced martial arts, been a security guard and a Tivoli warden. So I’ve always had good motivation for staying in shape. But I have never had any ambitions on a sporting level.
The first time I start being serious about my training is in 2015.
2015 is my annus horribilis, the worst year of my life. At that time I was recently divorced and single father with two children, 9 and 12 years old. I had lost my house with a nasty debt as a result. I was unemployed since the turn of the year and couldn’t – for the first time of my life – find work.
And then, to add insult to injury, I was diagnosed with heart problems.
Welcome to my 2015.
I have intermittently had episodes over the past few years when my heart would start to race uncontrollably when I exerted myself – often when I started running. All strength drained from my body in seconds. Like when you stand up too quickly after having slept. And just like that, if I knelt down quickly, I was ready to go as if nothing had happened.
No problemo. I’ve just pushed too hard. And I’ve also turned 50, so it’s probably completely normal. Man thinking.
But then it happened repeatedly again and again and with less exertion.
And when my girlfriend was able to hear the irregularity when she put her ear to my chest, it was probably time to have that heart examined.
Atrial flutter.
The old cardiologist told me: “This won’t be what kills you, but we have to do something about it.” And thus reassured…
We did something about it. And it got better. Much better.
But right there, there I was, smack in the middle of chaos with unmanageable debt, no job and two children. And then I was also diagnosed with a serious heart disease.
I think most people can relate to the fact that my life didn’t feel optimal right then and there.
I quickly came to the conclusion that I basically had two options:
I could sit down and wait for it all to go away.
Or I could say: Fuck it! I have a life, two children and a beautiful girlfriend.
I chose number two, fuck it! Problems do not just go away.
I learned that from my parents. They worked hard all their lives and did what needed to be done. Not without fights, tears or hard times. But they did it, and they created a good and secure life for themselves and for me. I owe them for that.
So I realized two things. There is only one responsible for my health and wellbeing. And that’s me. And my health is a prerequisite for me to have the strength to solve any other problems.
And good health and a strong body goes really well together, surprise. The stronger the body is and the more efficient it works, the better it functions in spite of a weak heart.
If the pump is weak, then it is imperative that nothing is blocking the pipes. No clogging of the veins and no cramps to cut off circulation.
A sketch of a plan
I didn’t come up with a big shiny plan at first. I simply didn’t have the energy for that. But I took a good look at myself. What were my weak spots? And what could I do about it with the means at my disposal?
I came to concentrate on the following five points:
Get control of your life
Take a good look at yourself
Strength training
Fitness and breathing
Self-discipline
1. Get control of your life
All good ideas and intentions don’t matter if your life is falling apart. You may have all the right ideas – but in a big chaotic pile – without being able to do anything about anything.
At one point in the beginning of my career as a freelancer, I was lucky enough to get some good advice, which has since proven to be universally valid.
When everything falls apart – and that happens easily as a freelancer – then stop!
Right there, stop whatever you’re doing. And sit your ass down and start cleaning up. Sort everything out into neat, manageable piles and prioritize:
What requires immediate action?
What can surely wait?
What might the customer be persuaded to postpone?
And finally, who do you simply call up and say: “Unfortunately, this is a task I cannot handle.”
I have managed number four several times by getting a colleague to take over the task. And there has never been a bad review from the customer for it.
That advice has saved my sleep more than once. And it works in my personal life too.
When everything comes crashing down around you (and I’m not talking about serious mental problems) it’s mostly because you’re so overwhelmed by impressions, that you’re unable to process them.
And then you simply have to say stop to the world. Drop the kids off at grandma’s. Lock the doors and turn off the phone. And then sit down and get things under control one step at a time without distractions.
Be aware that this is not a selfish act. It’s actually for the good of everyone. When you pick up the kids again, you will be a much better version of yourself.
2. Listen
When everything had calmed down, it was time to listen to my body.
I’ve always had a reasonably good body awareness – and I think it’s such an important topic that I’ve dedicated a chapter to it. And I decided to make it a focal point in all physical activity going forward. I didn’t keep written track of it, but I made a mental note of how my body reacted to everything I did.
Primarily; where were my limits? And could I move them?
An example could be dizziness and black outs. But those signs are also what you might call pretty obvious.
Less will do, so I started looking for more subtle forewarnings. As an example I think we all know that feeling at the end of a sprint, when the lactic acid kicks in and creates that very odd sensation in the legs. The same sensation, I discovered, set in just before I had a seizure.
Then, when I felt that sensation in my body, I stopped immediately, lowered my head and took some deep breaths. And then the sensation disappeared – without triggering a seizure.
I concluded that it was lack of oxygen that triggered a seizure.
As a result of that, I began focusing on breathing in order to get as much oxygen into my blood stream as possible despite poor circulation.
And in that way I actually managed to maintain a reasonable training regime during the time that passed before I was properly examined and treated by the doctors.
I don’t really think running as such was that important – it was limited how much I was able to push myself doing it, but… it was an important psychological factor to be able to give my illness a fuck finger and say : “Ha! You do not define my life.”
Being able to listen to my body like that and being able to change behavior accordingly gave me an understanding of the importance of listening to my body.
If we always wait until our body just says stop, it will be a pretty boring conversation and lots of defeats. But if we constantly listen and adjust, it is possible to prevent a lot of damage and repair what’s already occurred.
3. Strength training
I had realized that physical training was absolutely essential to my overall health during such a difficult period. But I had two major challenges:
Cardio was almost impossible with my heart condition
It was very difficult to find the time to go to the gym
But you don’t have to be out of breath during strength training. It all depends on your training routine, on speed and repetitions.
You can always choose to slow down.
Every time you lift 10 kg, you lift, well, 10 kg whether you hurry or not. You can easily tire your muscles without rushing. That is, without cardio.
I decided that my main goal was to strengthen all major muscle groups in my body. And I would to find the time necessary. So I made a list of all the exercises I wanted to do and arranged them in a sensible order.
And then – and this is important – I decided that it was more important to exercise my entire body as much as possible than it was to get through every single exercise at every training session. So when on a tight schedule I would just stop when I was out of time. And then I would simply pick up where I had left next time I worked out.
I think we’ve all experienced that annoying feeling of being interrupted again and again and feeling like starting all over each and every time we get back to training. It’s really demotivating.
This way it felt different.
This way training became an ever-advancing cycle, despite all the interruptions.
And… and that is also an important point, I stopped thinking in training sessions, that is set timeslots where I had to achieve a certain amount of exercises and sets. Instead I began to concentrate solely on the one exercise I was doing. I did as many arm stretches as I could in one session. And that was it! Until another slot appeared in my schedule where I would do the next exercise on the list.
Like that training became manageable in an unmanageable everyday life.
There was also the advantage of only doing one exercise at a time – and only one set – that I didn’t break a sweat. So I could train whenever I saw an opportunity without having to change clothes – at work too.
That way training became an integrated part of my overall daily routine.
4. Fitness and breathing
The thing about cardio is that it doesn’t go well with an impaired heart. But as soon as I concluded that my seizures were triggered by a lack of oxygen – due to poor heart function – I started doing breathing exercises. And that’s how I got about running again. Or rather… jogging. Jogging nice and slow.
I implemented starting each run with deep breaths, lots of deep breaths. A bit like when a freediver saturates his blood with oxygen before a dive without bottled oxygen. And then I started out very carefully until I could feel my muscles warming up and blood circulation being properly established.
During the race itself, I was very conscious about my breathing, about taking very deep breaths, and not least, exhale completely every time.
A coach once told me that the most important thing about breathing while running was to empty the lungs completely with each exhalation. As he told me, you have to consciously empty the lungs, but your body’s natural reflexes will make sure to fill them up again. Old stagnant air in the bottom of the lungs blocks maximum oxygen absorption and thus performance, so that air has to be emptied out completely.
That way I managed – with an untreated heart defect – to still in a sense do cardio. A byproduct was that I later measured a lung capacity almost 30% above average for my age, tadaaaah!
5. Self-discipline
Self-discipline is not a given. Not even when one’s life is literally at stake.
It is so much easier to indulge in self-pity and resignation. I didn’t see it coming and now it’s just too late – and too bad for me. Or… I can’t do anything about it anyway. That’s just life; it’s unfair.
It’s easy. And if you let yourself sink into the soft cushion of self-pity, it is extremely difficult to pull yourself out again.
Now, fortunately, I have grown up with the idea that problems are something you have an obligation to solve. You should not expect others to solve them for you. That, combined with several decades of freelancing hanging on by the nails, created a really practical mindset:
Fact of life: Shit happens!
Problems exist to be solved.
Only you can solve them.
These are important realizations on the road to self-discipline.
If you feel that you can do something about your own situation, it is easier to get yourself together than when the basic feeling is that it is of no use anyway.
Defining manageable milestones is also an important path to self-discipline. It’s much harder to move towards a distant goal than it is to reach for what’s right in front of you. And when you stand there with the first small victory, it is easier to set yourself the next realistic goal.
And with each small victory the realization grows that it actually works. And that realization makes it easier to aim for more ambitious goals.
And remember to praise yourself and celebrate your victories – no matter how small.
Positive motivation works better than negative. Especially when it’s about yourself.
And thus we have defined the core of this book.
It is all about motivation. About building a positive, encouraging story around everything you do.
I believe that it’s important to develop a personal philosophy of life to really live a rich and meaningful life. Otherwise you just end up going with the flow and gradually drowning in everyday life, trivialities and left-handed TV shows.
A meaningful life is not a given or something you can buy for money.
There is no inherent meaning in the good education in itself, the good job, everyday life, the things we gather around us or the people we meet – other than what we ourselves bring to the table.
You have to know what you want with it all. You have to decide that each and every part of your life is important.
Memory glimpses that shaped my view of the world
Sunset in Copenhagen
I remember an episode thirty years back. A classic danish winter’s day. Cold, damp and grey.
My fiancée, Maria, and her father, Walter, and I are walking towards Børsen, past Holmen’s Church, on our way to Christianshavn and finally to Amager where we live. It is late afternoon close to sunset and rush hour has just set in. There are cars and people everywhere.
It starts to snow. A little at first but it soon catches momentum and snowflakes grow huge and multiply, till we find ourselves in something that resembles a blizzard.
All sounds around us change character. The sound of the cars is amplified by the humidity and supplemented by the swish and hiss of the wet road. Pedestrians duck their heads and speed up, and cyclists ride – if even possible – more reckless than ever.
But while the traffic around us slowly becomes more and more noisy and chaotic, we actually have a great time there in our own warm bubble of conversation after a nice walk around the inner city, . And then we enter the bridge, Knippelsbro.
From the bridge you can look south-east towards Langebro and a few kilometers further down the harbour. At that exact moment the clouds lies dark and heavy over the entire harbour and snow pours down on us in cascades. Huge snowflakes covers us, and then…
Just above the horizon, the clouds stop and give way to the sun.
And there it is, the setting sun, delicate yellow and obscured by the snow. Sandwiched between the dark waters below and the jet-black clouds above. Seemingly feeble but still able to penetrate the whirling snow with the most beautiful soft and golden light and make the big soft snowflakes dance like enchanted golden downs in front of us.
At such a moment time stops and the world becomes magical – if you let it.
I steal a brief second out of the magic and look around. We are all alone with our moment. The rest of the world bows down and tucks it’s collar up around it’s ears. Drivers cover their eyes to better see the road in spite of the sun, and cyclists stare down at the path directly in front of them as they pedal frantically through the slush.
We are all by ourselves in the midst of everybody. And we thoroughly enjoy it.
And then, poof! It’s gone.
The sun has disappeared into the clouds and the show is over.
But we got the whole spectacle.
Moments like this tells me that life is magical if you have an eye for it. Magical in a completely different way than a Netflix series can ever be.
Because a moment like this leaves a little glow inside all of us. One that lasts to this day, thirty years later. Those kinds of moments with that kind of impact only exist in the real world. I felt it in my entire body and it penetrated all the way into my soul. A movie can give me a magical moment right there, but when I switch it off, it’s gone. I know it was just pretend.
And therein lies the seed of a life philosophy for me – Life is magical. Maybe just for a brief moment. But that only means that I have to make sure not to miss it, when magic happens.
Shit happens – all the time – and that’s just a fact that has to be dealt with. That requires training, discipline and hard work. It may sound tedious, but it’s a trinity that works.
The magic… you have to keep an eye out for it, care for it and appreciate it.
Because then it is actually worth getting up in the morning. Even if it’s raining and the car has a puncture.
Maybe it’s the day you see the rainbow of your life or meet your new soulmate.
So yes, I think that this actually is an important part of my life philosophy:
