The River Flows Ever Forwards
Goals for My Fourth Decade
Time, like a river, flows ever forward. Though we may dip our hands in it, we cannot stop the current.
Confucius
Time is a river which sweeps me along, but I am the river; it is a tiger which destroys me, but I am the tiger; it is a fire which consumes me, but I am the fire.
Jorge Luis Borges
On the occasion of my thirtieth birthday, I envisage the following ten years of my life as the “rubber decade.”
In baseball, a “rubber match” is the final, deciding game played between two teams in a tied series. Only one side will bask in the spoils of victory.
Turning thirty years old marks a firm divide between two paths—a continuation of the revelry enjoyed with abandon over the past decade, or a commitment to healthier practices as one grapples with the tragic impermanence of existence.
Along with mounting societal expectations, the body itself grows less lenient. Mornings after demand concerted recovery. Tinctures of time no longer obviate most aches and pains. Hairlines recede. Memories fade. Creases expose our habitual expressions, betraying those who smile easily, those quick to frown.
Some may at first choose to double down and ignore any emerging limitations, but the joyride of youth will ineluctably come to an end.
Past 30, certain trends appear particularly bleak:
Muscle mass gradually declines by about 3-5% per decade.
Bone mass gradually declines by 0.5 to 1% per year.
The lens of the eye becomes less flexible, reducing focus on nearby objects and contributing to farsightedness.
The incidence of cancer (particularly breast, cervical, and colorectal) slowly increases.
Skin elasticity declines, contributing to the appearance of wrinkles and fine lines.
The fourth decade is crucially decisive—it is unlikely to be the final decade but among the periods of time that will matter the most. How we take care of ourselves and our bodies around the age of 30 may well immutably shape our patterns of behavior for decades to come.
My personal goals for the latter half of my life center on retaining excellent functional status. A few arbitrary examples, which are severely subject to change, include:
Reading a novel by Jorge Luis Borges in the original Spanish by the age of 50
Running a marathon at the age of 60
Being able to lift my wife at the age of 65
Walking a 20-minute mile at the age of 75
Doing one pull-up at the age of 75
Ascending at least two flights of stairs without stopping through age 75
Carrying about 9kg in each hand for at least 100 meters through age 75
Consistently avoiding a score of cognitive impairment on a standardized assessment like MoCa through age 80
At least in terms of my physical and cognitive function, I endeavor to retire a wealthy man.
Just like actual retirement savings, reaching these long-term goals requires adequate preparation, consistent action, and subdivision into shorter-term objectives.
I hope to define at least seven spheres of focus for my rubber decade, which may prove pivotal in preserving the function I envision for my seventh and eighth decades. These spheres will cross two main domains of function, physical and cognitive.
The goals demarcated with an “A” are “stretch goals”—ambitious and difficult to achieve but nonetheless still somewhat realistic. Their subordinates, the Bs and Cs, are more attainable variations of the top goal and also function as necessary pre-requisites. Goals denoted “X” are corollaries to the stretch goal but are not essential for its achievement.
Having all these discrete goals is well and good, but I also strive to maintain a loose grasp on them. The value of my life will not be measured by my success or failure in achieving these aims. I do not conceive of some celestial ledger marking off my mile times as a septuagenarian.
The very existence of these goals suggests otherwise, but I intend for the tenor of my life to reflect a sentiment from the Indian philosopher and mystic Jiddu Krishnamurti:
Here is my secret: I don’t mind what happens. That is the essence of inner freedom. It is a timeless spiritual truth: release attachment to outcomes, deep inside yourself, [and] you’ll feel good no matter what.
Physical Function
1A. Qualify for the Boston Marathon
Nearly all endurance runners dream of running Boston.
At the time of publication, I have completed eight marathons. (A life goal is becoming a “fifty-stater:” running a marathon in all fifty states.)
The closest I came to a BQ (Boston-qualifier) was my 3:13:23 finish at the Cape Cod Marathon in late 2015, when the cut-off for qualification was 3:05:00. Since then, as the popularity of running continues to increase, BQ thresholds have gradually become more competitive.
In 2026, males aged 18-34 are required to run a marathon of 2:55:00 to qualify for Boston. Even then, “If the total amount of submissions surpasses the allotted field size for qualified athletes, then those who are the fastest among the pool of applicants in their age and gender group will be accepted.” (Emphasis mine.)
To complete a marathon in 2:55:00, a runner must average a 6:40/mile pace.
For males aged 35-39, the qualifying time is a more leisurely 3:00:00, a 6:51/mile average pace.
Standards for the Chicago Marathon, another World Marathon Major, mirrors Boston for males in their thirties.
The New York City Marathon, the largest marathon in the world, requires a time of 2:53:00 for males aged 18-34 (6:36 average pace). Males aged 35-39 need run a marathon in 2:55:00.
1B. Run a marathon under 3:00:00
1C. Set a new personal record (PR) in the marathon (faster than 3:13:23)
1X. Run a sub-5:00 mile
To date, my fastest mile is 5:15, set in late August 2024. In the world of running, this feat is not altogether impressive. Perhaps as many as one-quarter of male runners in their twenties in local track clubs run this quickly.
While somewhat orthogonal to my overall mission of running quicker marathons, a five-minute mile remains a discrete, elusive goal for me as a runner.
2A. Maintain “elite” VO2 max
I have written ad nauseam about VO2 max on this platform. In short, VO2 max measures global cardiorespiratory fitness and is among the most influential health metrics to track, augment, and maintain. You can read more here.
At the time of publication, my Apple Watch reports my VO2 max at 61.6 ml/kg/min, which is likely within 3.5 ml/kg/min of my true VO2 max. My most recent submaximal test using Cooper’s protocol placed my VO2 max at 58.9 ml/kg/min on 4 July 2024.
An “elite” VO2 max for males aged 30-39 is ≥ 53 ml/kg/min, as described in a seminal paper by Mandsager et al. (2018).
2B. Maintain “high” VO2 max (≥ 46 ml/kg/min)
3A. Meet specific weight-lifting benchmarks
Starting with my resolutions for 2020, that annus horribilis, I have aspired to achieve certain standards for specific weight-lifting movements, namely the squat, bench press, and deadlift.
(After developing an inguinal hernia following several months of intensive training in late 2022 and early 2023, I identified the back squat as the most likely exacerbating movement and removed it entirely from my regimen. The bench press and deadlift appear not to be as provocative and remain cornerstones of my strength training.)
Due to injury, flagging interest, and time constraints, I have thus far been consistently stymied in achieving these perennial resolutions in weight-lifting.
At risk of meeting a certain definition for insanity, I will again place priority on this goal.
Namely, I aim to achieve a specific one-repetition maximum (1RM) in the bench press and deadlift based on “Category IV” standards outlined in Starting Strength for my bodyweight of about 181 lbs.
As there are certain risks associated with attempting a one-rep maximum, I will be estimating my 1RM (e1RM) from a set of three or five repetitions.
Bench press: 275 lbs. (+ 50 lbs. from my best 1RM of 225 lbs.)
∴ e1RM of 275 lbs: 3 reps at 250 lbs. or 5 reps at 236 lbs.
Deadlift: 438 lbs. (+ 106 lbs. from my best 1RM of 332 lbs.)
∴ e1RM of 438 lbs: 3 reps at 398 lbs. or 5 reps at 375 lbs.
3B. Maintain specific weight-lifting benchmarks
Instead of meeting Category IV standards, I would maintain Category III standards in the bench press and deadlift for a bodyweight of 181 lbs:
Bench press: 201 lbs.
∴ e1RM of 201 lbs: 3 reps at 183 lbs. or 5 reps at 172 lbs.
Deadlift: 315 lbs.
∴ e1RM of 315 lbs: 3 reps at 286 lbs. or 5 reps at 270 lbs.
Cognitive Function
4A. Attain a level of B2 fluency in Spanish
At the time of publication, I have not studied Spanish in a classroom setting for about ten years. Given a total of five years of formalized instruction, however, relearning vocabulary and certain concepts in grammar usually comes somewhat easily.
Using the Common European Framework of Reference for Languages (CEFR) paradigm, I aim to achieve a B2 level of fluency in Spanish by the end of 2034.
B2 may be defined as “working fluency,” including the ability to “… understand the main ideas of complex text … including technical discussions in his/her field of specialisation. Can interact with a degree of fluency and spontaneity that makes regular interaction with native speakers quite possible without strain for either party.”
Whatever level of fluency I reach will be assessed formally by the end of 2034.
4B. Attain a level of B1 fluency in Spanish
Similar to how I utilize this blog, a speaker of B1 fluency can “ … produce simple connected text on topics which are familiar or of personal interest. Can describe … dreams, hopes & ambitions and briefly give reasons and explanations for opinions and plans.”
5A. Submit a manuscript to a publisher
This platform stands as testament to my love for writing and my solipsistic conviction that I have ideas and thoughts worth reading. Even if my audience were composed only of family members and close friends, I would still derive immense value and satisfaction in composing pieces for this blog.
That said, I should prepare myself for disappointment. Anecdotal reports suggest fewer than 1 to 2 per cent of manuscripts submitted to traditional publishers are accepted each year. And these are, it’s safe to assume, coming from writers with proper agents and editors.
Next to qualifying for the Boston Marathon and attaining B2 fluency in Spanish, this is probably the most audacious of my rubber decade goals, as well as the most disparate from my long-term objectives for functional status. Will publishing a book in my 30s stave off the ravages of Alzheimer’s dementia in my 80s? Probably not.
Still, we all deserve to have one or two lofty goals to animate and excite our otherwise prosaic existence.
During my final year of medical school, I devoted about five months to writing a memoir about my experience as a donor-conceived child from a low-income background. Given its intersection with reproductive medicine, the project was eligible to serve as my capstone project for my medical degree.
While the text stands at about 300 pages, the quality of the writing is likely substandard and rather insipid in spite of what one donor-conceived sibling claimed after a few mixed drinks. Several more months, if not years, of revision with the supervision of an editor and agent might make the project suitable for submission.
Apart from the memoir, I am also giving thought to a book-length treatment of the topics in health and fitness discussed on this blog. My recent piece, A Simpler Approach to Health, provides a potential framework to refine and expand for a broader readership.
5B. Work with an agent and/or editor to produce a manuscript
6A. Read 500 books
My last decade of reading saw the completion of 454 books. This period of time, notably, included three years of college as well as four years of medical school.
For the last five years, I averaged about 51 books annually, placing me on track to read a total of 500 books over a ten year span.
Each year, I aim to read one Stephen King novel (naturally during the month of October), one Shakespeare play, one book of poetry, one pre-20th century “classic” novel, and one biography exceeding 500 pages.
As always, I will monitor my progress on Goodreads.
6B. Read > 454 books
6C. Read 300 books
6X. Read more than 121 books in a year
In 2012, I managed to read 121 books, the average length of which was about 275 pages. (Yes, there were few friends or other hobbies at the time.)
Even with the use of audiobooks and a concerted effort to read shorter books, I am unlikely to come close to this mark until much later in life. The best I was able to manage in recent years was 82 books in 2018.
7A. Learn how to make 10 complex meals and 5 complex cocktails
As I age, my palate increasingly demands more, as does my wife. Cooking and mixology have not been resolute sources of joy for me throughout life, though I remain open to the experience of learning new skills and broadening my perspective.
These ten meals will be dishes for dinner, often the largest and most diverse offering for food in the U.S. Of course, these meals will be vegan, and I endeavor for only one or two to feature pasta, otherwise a staple of vegetarian cooking.
Each of the five cocktails I aim to master should ideally be suitable as a mocktail, given that I hope to gradually decrease my consumption of alcohol over time. A preponderance of evidence now makes clear that all alcohol use carries risk, and the safest level of consumption is none at all.
Among the first I hope to conquer is a vegan beef wellington.
7B. Learn how to make 5 complex meals and 3 complex cocktails
One last spin on the above metaphors:
A rabbi is lying on his death bed, and his students are lined up at his side. The wisest student is beside the old rabbi, the second-wisest behind him, and so on, down the length of the bed, into the hall, down the stairs, and out into the street where the most junior student is at the back of the line.
The rabbi raises his head a little, slowly opens his eyes, draws a rattling breath, and with great effort says, "Life... Life is... is like... a river." He shuts his eyes, dropping his head back onto the pillow with exhaustion.
The wisest student turns to the student behind him and exclaims, "Life is like a river!" That student turns to the one behind him and repeats this wisdom, and so on and so forth until the message reaches the most junior student. After a moment, he taps the student ahead of him on the shoulder and says "Excuse me, but why is life like a river?"
This message gets passed up to the front of the line, until the wisest student leans over the Rabbi and again, soft and reverently, asks, "Great Rabbi, please, oh wise one, tell us... why is life like a river?"
The old rabbi raises his head again, slowly opens his eyes, draws another rattling breath, and says, "Okay, so it's not like a river..."
Traditional Yiddish joke
A most insightful treatise - should be shared widely :)
Great goals!