LIVE LIVE LIVE, DIE

Gentlemen,

“Movement is life.”

This idea was shared with me by my new friend Bam LionHeart last week. Given that Bam is a movement enthusiast and coach, I gave the idea a good bit of thought.

Upon reflecting I realized it’s true.

A prerequisite to death, without exception, is the absence of movement — stagnation. Whether it be a quick approach via something like a heart attack or a slow approach via something like Parkinson’s disease - a person stops moving before they die. No living organism, in fact, can die and move silmultaneously. It could be seconds or years, but one way or another movement is eliminated prior to life.

On this basis, I believe there is a sound and compelling argument to be made that movement and life are inextricably linked.

Okay, enough weighty and vocabularlily obnoxious philosophical talk. Assuming you align with this conclusion, the question I would ask is how this belief impacts our lives?

Here’s how I believe it does:

If it’s true that movement is life, and I want to maximize my life, how should I move?

I should move in ways that I believe will maximize my life.

What does it mean for me to maximize my life?

For me(and this will no doubt be different for you), maximizing my life means to be able to live with as much vitality as I possibly can, for as long as I possibly can with a bias toward vitality; I’d rather live a higher quality, shorter life, than a lower quality, longer life. Quality and potency are more important to me than quantity and duration.

In more practical terms, I expect to be able to move how I want, when I want, where I want, and at what speed I want, for as long as I’m alive. I expect to play with my grandchildren, hunt elk in the mountains, surf, and make sweet love to my wife in my 80s. I reject any and all notions that aging and progressive stagnation are inseperable. To emphasize this point I’ll share a little bit about a role model of mine named Don Wildman. The year Wildman died he surfed, snowboarded, lifted weights, ran, played golf, walked, laughed, and lived fully. He was 85. And he went from 0-100 in a couple of weeks. He died quickly, meaning he moved a ton and then suddenly stopped moving. He LIVED LIVED LIVED LIVED LIVED LIVED, suddenly passed away.

Contrast this to the typical life of a westerner who doesn’t sprint full speed after the age of 35, who stops getting erections in his 60s, who passes up the opportunity to play ball in the yard with his grandson by the time he’s 70 for “fear of getting injured.” The average person’s life is live, live less, live less, live less, live less, die slowly. Their life is a slow approach to death.

You see the difference. One way is full of maintained or even increased movement until death appears suddenly. One way is the slow and progressive decrease in movement over the span of your entire life until death is finally reached. Ben Franklin said, “Most men die at 25 and aren’t buried until 75.” Donahue Wildman died at 85 and was buried at 85.

My aim is to do the same.

With that, I’ll leave you with a few questions:

• Is movement life?

• How do you expect to be able to move the last year of your life?

• How do you need to move now to be able to move this way^, then?

I have many more thoughts on this subject and will write another newsletter later this week about my actual movement and training philosphy.

Thanks for reading, I hope this provided you with questions and ideas to ponder that will enhance the quality of your life.

Send me an email @ [email protected] or connect on Instagram or Twitter.

Onward & Upward,

Nolan