Is Heavy Lifting The Real Fountain Of Youth? These Women Over 60—And Science—Say Yes

Yahoo

5 days ago

For years, we've been bombarded by the trope of aging gracefully—staying small, moving slowly, playing it safe in the gym and in life. But a growing number of women are rejecting that tired script and picking up heavy weights instead. Supported by research, they're building bone density, muscle mass, mental resilience, and a fierce sense of self at every age.
Lifting heavy—at any age—is backed by science. Take an investigation aptly named the LIFTMOR study: When postmenopausal women with low bone density added 30 minutes of supervised high-intensity resistance and impact training (think deadlifts, overhead presses, jumping chinups) twice a week for eight months, the bone density in their lower spines increased by 2.9 percent on average. The control group, which did stretching and light weight resistance, lost 1.2 percent. People in the high-intensity group were lifting heavy too—at 80 to 85 percent of their one-rep max (if your max deadlift is 100 pounds, that would be 80 to 85 pounds). And no one in the heavy-lifting group got hurt.
As women age, particularly after 50, they lose estrogen and fast-twitch muscle fibers, says orthopedic surgeon Vonda Wright, MD, author of Unbreakable. Those fibers are responsible for quick, powerful movements, like catching yourself during a fall. The decline is partly due to changes in muscle stem cells. 'If we let time, biology, and physics go unchecked, we'll keep losing fibers, making us vulnerable to injury and less able to move confidently and independently,' she says.
Lifting later in life isn't just about building muscle—it can also be about connection. For many women hitting the weights, the barbell becomes a bridge to belonging. Chronic loneliness ups your risk of dying by 14 percent, and being isolated raises it by 32 percent, according to research. Relationships and interaction help keep your brain sharp, even slashing dementia risk by more than 25 percent, research has shown.
Today, the CDC recommends that older adults do heavy resistance training at least twice a week. It's a radical reframing: Building meaningful strength is not only possible after 60 but also might be the best thing you can do for long-term wellness. Just ask these women, who leaned into strength training later in life and reshaped their bodies, friendships, and futures.
Fighting Fragility
TWO YEARS AGO, Joni Day, 61, went in for a DEXA scan—a bone density test that can diagnose osteoporosis. (It runs in her family.) She didn't think much of it. 'I was a runner, did a lot of walking, yoga, and had just been introduced to kettlebells, so I wasn't worried about osteoporosis,' she says. Then her results revealed she had it.
Her doctor suggested a five-year medication plan. But her friend and fitness instructor Kathryn Londoff had another idea: barbells. Londoff now runs a Barbell Club class at Integrity Movement Lab in New Hampshire. Twice a week, they squat, deadlift, bench, and press. 'We're building strength for our old-lady bodies,' Londoff says.
At first, Day wasn't sure, but she was open to it, despite barely being able to lift a five-pound weight overhead. 'I thought, If I do this work, maybe I don't need medication.' Three weeks into Barbell Club, she was hooked. A year later, she lifts four or five times a week, her personal record on the deadlift is 185 pounds, and she has no signs of osteoporosis.
For decades, women like Day were taught that fitness was about staying small through cardio and light weights. Women with osteoporosis were also long advised to stick to gentle exercise (walking or water aerobics, maybe). But strength? Not the target. Ann Nassoura, 65, another member of Londoff's group who was also diagnosed with osteoporosis, says her daughter used to call her 'the F word'—fragile. It was a driving force for her journey: 'That's not what I want to be.'
Despite practicing yoga for 40 years, Peggo Horstmann Hodes, 70, a member of Londoff's crew, had noticed strength losses around 50 and recently suffered from stress-related back spasms that would render her immobile for days, leaving her muscles weak. After two years of strength training with the club, she's lifting more weight than ever. 'Strength training makes me feel like I don't have to just get old and lose my balance, or live in fear.'
Horstmann Hodes doesn't see fellow members outside of class, yet there's a special bond. 'I don't know what these women do for work. I don't know where they live. We show up, do this, and go home. But there's connection in that.' By weightlifting together, women learn to coach, cue, and root for one another, says Londoff. But there's more: 'You learn you're not alone in your fears or doubts.' With Londoff's support, Horstmann Hodes has moved through fears of triggering back spasms and retrained her mind that she can do more than she thinks.
As Horstmann Hodes gains muscle, she's also grown more confident and joyful, and more inclined to think outside the box: 'I never thought lifting barbells was something I'd want to do.' Day sees shifts too. 'Grocery store employees used to ask if I needed help carrying bags. They don't anymore. I think the way I hold myself is different now. People sense that I'm capable.'
Smashing Generational Stereotypes
HEATHER JACKSON, 57, remembers the epiphany that strong was the answer. As a former dancer, 'every single message I got as a dancer was about being skinnier,' she says. 'I was skeletal, and it was never good enough.' Years later, injuries from tae kwon do made it crystal clear to her that she didn't have the muscle to support herself. She began going to Harlem Kettlebell Club (HKC) in New York, but in her first class, she could barely squat. Now she deadlifts 205 pounds. 'Our generation wasn't taught to go after strength. This feels so much better.'
This is the extent to which old-school messaging around exercise has failed women. 'We live in a culture where you're told that if you get older, there's no value to you—only frailty ahead,' says Jackson. 'We have some seriously badass people at the gym lifting amazing amounts of weight and not fitting into society's idea of what they 'should' look like.'
Jackson emphasizes the need for a mindset shift. 'Our bodies are not meant to be pretty little parcels,' she says. 'Our bodies are meant to carry us through life and give us energy, vibrancy, and vitality. Heavy lifting gives you that—and gives you permission to live inside your skin differently.' What does she mean? Jackson recalls a close call with a scooter running a red light. 'I was able to dive out of the way and catch myself without breaking anything or harming myself.' Then there's the everyday side: picking up a bag of cat food (25 pounds), opening a tight jar without asking a neighbor for help, and loading a suitcase into the overhead compartment on a plane.
At HKC, there's always a party or a gathering for the community. Members have coffee and drinks and can be found on nearby street corners, gabbing about life and exercise. In a digital world, Jackson says it's rare to feel this rooted. It's a way of being 'physically present in your life.'
Heather Green, another regular, describes the vibe as unlike that of any other group fitness setting she's experienced. 'It is very sincere, mindful, and intentional,' she says. 'People are there to support you and want you to succeed.' Green recalls an emotional breakdown in a recent workout while pushing herself to lift a weight she hadn't before. 'I had my community to remind me that I'm great, no matter what weight I put up in the air. I'm not going to get that kind of support outside the club.'
Florence Lynch, 68, another Harlem Kettlebell Club participant, started lifting weights at 57 years old. Her friends of the same age outside of the club 'can't even fathom the work we do in class,' and she credits lifting with helping her complete the New York City Marathon three times. 'Women sometimes feel invisible at a certain age, and I don't feel invisible at the club. It's given me confidence in life. I know that what I have to say matters,' Lynch says. When it comes to her commitment to her crew: 'I'm in it until the wheels fall off.'
Pairing Up for Power
CYNTHIA SANDERS, 66, has run 28 marathons and always considered herself fit. But last August, when a trainer asked her to push-press 45 pounds, she couldn't do it.
On the way home, Sanders, of Cedar Hill, Texas, bought an Olympic barbell and practiced the rest of the day. Being humbled by a fitness feat 'made her so mad,' says her friend and neighbor Becky Hennesey, 67. It wasn't an ego thing—Sanders, who works in a rehab facility, witnesses daily what a lack of strength does to the body. 'I see patients my age or younger who can't walk or stand because of lack of muscle,' she says. She recruited Hennesey to join her with a personal trainer every Friday morning, to hold each other accountable.
So began a new chapter: weightlifting with friends. As the pair got stronger together, nailed form, and were challenged in new ways, they grew interested in Hyrox competitions (which combine running with moves like sled pushes, sandbag lunges, and farmer's carries). In June, Sanders competed in Hyrox's national championships, pushing a whopping 225 pounds.
What started as a personal wake-up call quickly evolved into something bigger—a shared pursuit that strengthened not just the women's muscles but their bond. 'She's always beating me, but I don't quit because she's there,' says Hennesey. 'We challenge each other and keep each other going. Without fitness, we probably wouldn't have a whole lot in common—we have separate families, different places of worship, and probably voted for different people—but I feel closer to Cynthia than I do to some of my other friends.' Hennesey goes so far as to describe their joint journey as spiritual, noting mood-lifting benefits that help with her depression.
The pair are scheduled to compete together in Hyrox in Dallas in November and have longer-term plans to hike Mount Kilimanjaro. Says Hennesey, 'Now, I'm looking forward to growing older and having opportunities to do more.'
Century Strong
Centenarian exerciser Geraldine 'Jerry' Leo went viral for her four-minute plank…and she just turned the big 1-0-0. WH asked her for her top three tips to make movement a way of life, even in the triple digits.
Leo exercises five days a week—she has a personal trainer, uses weight machines, rides the stationary bike, and does leg raises, planks, overhead presses, and squats. 'I get a little bit of everything.' She is also a walker and has run 5Ks for years. 'I have the medals to prove it.'
For Leo, movement is joyful. 'The minute I get to the door of the YMCA, I'm in heaven,' the Long Island resident says. Sure, there are mornings she doesn't feel like going—but she goes, knowing how good exercise makes her feel afterward.
Leo shops for groceries herself, visiting multiple markets for fresh fish, vegetables, and legumes. And she loves to cook, which helps her eat healthy and stay motivated. 'Sometimes I eat my whole meal standing up; I walk around the kitchen. I'm busy.' She's intentional about getting out too. 'My social life is important.' A charter member of the Great South Bay Y, she plans outings with gym friends and visits bookstores for cappuccino and conversation. Her advice? Don't wait for life to come to you: 'You don't just want to live long. You want to live healthy and engaged. That requires you to get out there.'
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