We’ve all heard the phrase, “Age is just a number.” But what does it really mean? Usually, it’s said by people who have done a great job staying active and taking care of themselves—rarely by those who are young or struggling with fitness.
As I write this, I’m 51 years old—soon to be 52—and a Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu purple belt. My fitness journey has been anything but linear. I’ve been out of shape, in shape, and even too thin. But at 45, with retirement on the horizon, I made a promise to myself: I wanted to enter the next chapter of life in the best shape I’d ever been. I built a home gym, focused on my nutrition, embraced the outdoors, and committed to consistent training. And as I began this process, I quickly realized something important: age is a number—one we must understand and respect.
Learning to Train With Age, Not Against It
I noticed that my body no longer responded the way it did in my twenties. Progress required more discipline, more patience, and much smarter decision-making. When I pushed too hard, injuries showed up—and they didn’t disappear overnight like they once did. If I was going to succeed, I had to acknowledge those changes rather than fight them.
After a couple of years of steady progress, I finally felt strong, healthy, and ready for something I had missed dearly: Jiu-Jitsu. After far too long away from the mats, I knew it was time to return and recommit to the art that had once been such a big part of my life.
Returning to Jiu-Jitsu With a New Mindset
When I trained MMA and BJJ in my younger days, every session felt like a battle. Being smaller than most of my training partners never stopped me from going hard. Ego played a role—more than I’d like to admit. I would push through injuries, heal quickly, and jump right back in, until eventually the wear and tear caught up and life shifted toward family and career. Jiu-Jitsu took a backseat.
Fortunately, I had a coach who never pressured me to return but welcomed me back without hesitation when I was ready. By then, time had given me something I didn’t have in my aggressive twenties: wisdom. And with that wisdom came questions—Am I too old? Can I keep up with younger guys? Can I handle the bigger athletes? These thoughts were loud when I stepped back on the mat.
But this time, ego didn’t get to drive.
I accepted that I wasn’t the strongest, fastest, or most flexible person in the room—but I brought a new approach and a genuine willingness to learn.
Training Smarter: The Key to Longevity
I knew that if I wanted to stay on the mats for years to come, I needed to train intelligently. That starts with respecting the number—my age—and adapting around it.
Here’s what changed for me:
- I maintain strength and cardio training outside of Jiu-Jitsu.
As older practitioners, we can’t rely solely on mat time for conditioning. A strong, well-rounded body reduces injury risk. - Every class is about learning, not winning.
If a younger, more athletic partner taps me, that’s fine. What matters is whether I’m gaining skill, understanding, and awareness. - I tap early—and with zero ego.
No more waiting until the last second and risking unnecessary damage. If I get caught, I tap, reset, and try to address what put me there. - I avoid positions that aggravate injuries.
Pain is information. I listen to it now, rather than push through it. - I surround myself with the right training partners.
People who want to learn together, improve together, and keep each other safe make all the difference.
And most importantly, I have a coach who understands that I’m in my fifties—not my twenties—and supports the approach I need to thrive.
Growing Older Without Getting Old
I want to be on the mats well into my later years. To do that, I need to respect my limits, acknowledge when it’s time to slow down, and continue making smart decisions about how I train. I’m fortunate to train in a gym where safety, growth, and longevity matter—especially to those of us rolling into our fifties, sixties, and beyond.
So yes, age is just a number. But it’s also a number worth respecting. When people tell themselves they’re “too old,” they close the door on experiences that could bring joy, growth, and confidence. When we acknowledge our age—and adapt to it—we keep that door wide open.
I choose to respect my number. And because of that, I’m looking forward to every year it increases… and every year I get better!
