In 1965, at 59 years old, Satchel Paige was obviously too old to play professional baseball. So how did the former Kansas City A's pitcher manage to turn in three scoreless innings in a single game for his team that year? Either he didn't know he was too old or he was too old to care what other people thought.
"How old would you be if you never knew how old you was?" quipped Paige.
Physical age doesn't have to be synonymous with feeling old. Why accept limitations you don't really have to? Mel Marks, a retired marketing consultant who is nearing 70, still runs every day and competes in marathons. Norman Vaughn, an 86-year-old Alaskan adventurer, competes annually in an 1,100-mile dogsled race that has defeated much younger men and women.
What about Dietrich Lamprecht, a 67-year-old former steelworker, who's enjoyed more competitive success in retirement than he ever did in traditional work roles?
Lamprecht took up bicycle racing after his employer, Kaiser Steel Co. in Fontana, California, went bankrupt 10 years ago. Spurred on by the joy of competing, Lamprecht won the Masters World Cup in Austria against a field of 2,300 riders from 37 countries. He's also the current U.S. national cyclist champion in his age class. Defying the "one-foot-in-the-grave" stereotype of older adults, he is the picture of health and vitality.
In part, it is the dream of winning and the love of competition that keeps him motivated. Like many people, Lamprecht found his calling after retirement, when some of the monetary constraints attached to making a living were removed. Canadian scholar John A.B. McLeish refers to people like him as "Ulyssean adults" because, like Ulysses, they set out on new voyages in their later years.
While some older adults push for new physical adventures, a yearning and quest for creativity may also govern the journey. Marks, for example, has taken up writing and published his first historical work, called Jews Among the Indians (1994, Chicago: Bennis), while corporate attorney Frank Mackey traded in his share of his Little Rock, Arkansas, law practice to begin a new career as an actor.
Defying the conventional notions about older adults, these active folks aren't getting ready to die. They're just learning how to live. Judy Rosemarin believes that older adults need to recapture some of the curiosity and wonder that children typically bring to their projects. She cites a wonderful inspirational story about her friend Harry Lieberman, who retired from his job as a candy-maker after 50 years in the business. One day, the 80-year-old Lieberman was hanging out at the senior center, waiting for his chess partner, who didn't show. To keep busy, Lieberman allowed himself to be persuaded to start painting.
The furthest thing from this man's mind was starting a new career at the age of 80. But he proved to have such a talent for primitive painting that, like Grandma Moses, his work caught the attention of others and started selling. As a result, his next 24 years of life (!) proved enormously productive. When he was 100 years old, a New York publishing house signed him to a seven-year contract to illustrate one of their calendars. Lieberman died with three years left to go on the contract.
Lieberman didn't set out to emulate the life of Grandma Moses, the American primitive artist from upstate New York. She began painting at the age of 75 because she was "too old to work on the farm and too young to sit on the porch." Nevertheless, the similarity of his late-life career path took him down that road anyway.