Benefits of Being a Late Bloomer

My friend Darryl recently reminded me of the saying: “The best time to plant a tree is 20 years ago. The second best time is now.”

This nugget of wisdom can be applied to plenty of ventures, including strength training. Sure, I wish I’d started lifting weights decades ago, but it’s never too late to begin. In fact, being a late bloomer may even have some benefits.

My husband was a high school soccer standout who went on to play for a D1 college team. Unfortunately, an ACL tear altered his athletic ambitions, but he continued playing recreationally as an adult. As soon as our kids could stand upright, he’d place tyke-sized soccer balls at their feet. As they grew more coordinated, he’d spend hours practicing passes with them in the street, stopping occasionally to wow the neighbors with his signature stunt of flipping the ball up with his feet and catching it behind his neck.

In his thirties and forties, he played for a men’s team sponsored by a local brewpub. He’d come home from those games both exhilarated and frustrated. Exhilarated because he’d done something he loved. Frustrated because he wasn’t as good as he used to be.

In stark contrast, I did not grow up as an athletic star. With the exception of a single and undistinguished softball season when I was nine, I was not the sporty sort. Over the years I dabbled in tap dancing, step aerobics, jogging, and a few other things, but I didn’t love — or stick with, or get much better at — any of them.

So when I started strength training at the age of forty, I had nowhere to go but up, no glory days for which to pine, no pinnacle from which to fall. With every workout, I felt stronger and more confident. I set new personal records, then gleefully broke them. While my husband was lamenting what his body could no longer do on the soccer pitch, I was celebrating my newfound capacity in the gym.

Of course, I eventually hit some walls. I made mistakes, acquired injuries, and hit plateaus. After crushing a bucket-list deadlift goal two years ago, I may never pick up something that heavy again. And that’s okay. There’s always a different milestone, a fresh feat, a new reason to celebrate what my body can do.

So, if you’re a late bloomer like me, go ahead and plant your tree. Then watch it thrive.