Over 50`s , How Knackered Are You ?

Kerrrist on an actual bike - does the term 'Zipperhead' get used much ? Hope it cures the problems when it goes live....

Not sure I have the right to contribute to this thread as a mere STAB non-infanteer....but I'm 65 next week.

Like many, count myself lucky.....knee issue for the last 9 months which has stopped me running but other than that I appear to be in ' g.w.o for its age, never despatched ' territory at the moment , fingers X'd.

Nearly popped my clogs in 2018 but seem to have recovered from a close encounter with only a few scars.

Walk,cycle,swim without too many dramas and weaned myself off the daily three meds I left hospital on.


Wear glasses for reading, mostly own teeth and hair, house trained.

@rickshaw best wishes for a slow steady recovery - and regards to the fragrant Mrs Rick from Hill Block HQ Land :)


I think it was Clint Eastwood who coined the phrase Zipperhead.
 
Jeebus

Reading this thread, I can only conclude that I am one lucky ********

Me too.

I've just turned 53 and fitter than ever.

Gym and Spin several times a week. Bench pressing and squatting to PB levels.
Apart from osteoarthritis in both ankles, a birth defect and nothing to do with anyone or anything else, and a recurring Tennis Elbow, I'm fine.

I start a new career Monday as a SAP consultant, so my mind is as active as ever.

Retirement for me is around 60, when the wife and I intend to downsize and put the equity into a little Coffee shop. Don't know where, but a 8-4 shop with good quality coffee, limited cooked food and cakes & stickie buns to attract the kids and yummy mummies

Might struggle with standing most of the day, but I'm sure I can sit in front of a Romano making superb beverages for hot 30 something women
 
not against civilians, against arm for arm, Do Infantry suffer more hip and knee joint problems compared to AAC, AGC ect,, Do ex arty guys suffer more shoulder and upper body problems, do Tank crew suffer more breathing problems than say ex RE, do RE suffer from more hand and digit related injuries. do AAC suffer more vibrating white finger than other arms of service. Comparing men who served in HM forces to civilians is a non point I would think.

You'll find that Tank crews suffer mainly from:

Knee and ankle issues, due to jumping off the front mud guards at ~1.5m onto concrete a million times a day

Hearing issues, due to . . well whatever. I recall being issued ear defenders when we were equipped with Challenger in '88, but I'll guess that the Royal Hussars and others who got it earlier never did
 
You'll find that Tank crews suffer mainly from:

Knee and ankle issues, due to jumping off the front mud guards at ~1.5m onto concrete a million times a day

Hearing issues, due to . . well whatever. I recall being issued ear defenders when we were equipped with Challenger in '88, but I'll guess that the Royal Hussars and others who got it earlier never did
Aye.

Chally 1 trials, 2 unsilenced turbo exhausts bellowing down your ears for hours on end, and those trial crew helmets were just awesome hearing protection, not.

Then xx years of an Astazou screaming down your ears for hours on end.

Say again?
 
You'll find that Tank crews suffer mainly from.......

I thought you lot might get respiratory issue being buttoned up together. then there's the fumes from the guns. My days spent buttoned up in a 432 with Jack my Number 1 on the Milan, after he'd been out on the raz was enough to give me breathing issues. Love my Ales, but I'll never think kindy of Tartan Bitter .
 
I thought you lot might get respiratory issue being buttoned up together. then there's the fumes from the guns. My days spent buttoned up in a 432 with Jack my Number 1 on the Milan, after he'd been out on the raz was enough to give me breathing issues. Love my Ales, but I'll never think kindy of Tartan Bitter .

You only do ranges for a few weeks a year, and the cordite is smelly, but I don't think it's that necessarily bad for you.

Again, you're only closed down on exercises, and that's not too often. Farts are the biggest dangers

The lungs thing is the wagons belting out huge amount of Carbon Monoxide and particulates when started up in the hangers. Some lazy sods would also get into a habit of running the GUE (Generator Unit Engine) inside the hangers if it was freezing outside and they didn't want to venture out.

Even though I haven't been on tanks in 33 years, the smell of a belching truck exhaust takes me back to the Tank park in Hohne
 
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Sack your barber.

Mate, that's all the rage these days . .














. . Amongst sad middle-aged men in mid-life crisis craving attention and chasing young minge
 

Brotherton Lad

LE
Kit Reviewer
Mid 60s. Retired 22 years ago.
Tinnitus - I blame Charlie G, Wombat and thousands of km in Warrior in Bosnia.
Arthritis in one knee after 39000 miles running and 22 years Infantry.
Bits of bullet in left calf.
Obliterated vertebra. T6, I think.
Broken collar bone.
2 broken toes.
No medications.
 

Forrest Gump

Old-Salt
I shouldn't have looked at this thread. Today is my 67th birthday. I'm home alone, bedded down and looking at a right lower leg that looks as though the brigade of Foot Guards has been marking time on it. Having, over the past seven years hyper tension, diabetes, a couple of arthroscopies, a radical prostatectomy swiftly followed by the fitting of an artificial urinary sphincter and circumcision (stop laughing in the back there) and providing the memsahib with the perfect reason for withdrawing conjugal rights ("Ugh. You look revolting. The sound you can hear is my libido making for a reverse slope position".) I thought things couldn't get much worse. Cue the cynical laughter.
A recent jaunt along Hadrian's Wall turned a sore knee into an inability, on a bad day, to walk more than 200metres without wincing. My Doc, known as Dr Mengele to some, told me that I was becoming bow legged on one side (But how, I'm not a rider, let alone ex Cav!) and as a result, the gap between upper and lower knee was compressed and the cartilage both trapped and escaping. The solution? An "upper tibial osteotomy". The lower leg is opened up, ligaments and muscle separated from the bone and a wedge cut out of the tibia. The tibia is then bent so the two ends meet and the whole thing bolted together with a plate before the whole shooting match is stitched back together.
Today is day five post op. Looking down, from knee to ankle is a varicolored bruise that not even LSD could provoke, punctuated by blisters of escaped bone marrow. I'm on sticks and using them makes me squeal like a stuck pig. Mrs Rickshaw has had to go and assist her frail and increasingly doolally ma and Rickshaw Minor is oblivious down in Australia where he is fighting Parkinson's. Rickshaw Mini Minor is equally oblivious as he is swotting for his pre LE commission interviews and boards as well as catering for two young children who are on the autistic spectrum.

Now, why have poured all this onto the page? Two reasons: getting old is shiite and shiite happens. Secondly, there is always somebody worse off than you so if I have generated a little schadenfreude for some and a snigger of "Rickshaw bloody deserves it" in others, then my job is done. Oh, finally, painkillers mean no booze. Happy Birthday me.
Thats a tuf fight mate…but you still see the sun coming up everyday eh.
 
Thats a tuf fight mate…but you still see the sun coming up everyday eh.
On that note, remember that when your man brings you your early morning tea and the newspaper (freshly ironed, naturally) you should first cast an eye over the Obits column.
If your name is not there, then you can assume it’s safe to get up.
 

Moke

MIA
I'm 71. My eyesight is quite poor and I will soon need glasses to meet the requirements for driving but other than that I'm still in working order. I have no diagnosed health issues, no prescriptions, no persistent aches or pains and I feel fine other than tiring very quickly when I have to do anything physical. This isn't surprising as I was always comparatively weak and struggled to meet the physical standards during officer training 50 years ago.

I don't eat fish or most vegetables, I don't do any heathy sports or real exercise and for a large part of my life I smoked heavily but so far I seem to have been very lucky health wise.
 
I'm 71. My eyesight is quite poor and I will soon need glasses to meet the requirements for driving but other than that I'm still in working order. I have no diagnosed health issues, no prescriptions, no persistent aches or pains and I feel fine other than tiring very quickly when I have to do anything physical. This isn't surprising as I was always comparatively weak and struggled to meet the physical standards during officer training 50 years ago.

I don't eat fish or most vegetables, I don't do any heathy sports or real exercise and for a large part of my life I smoked heavily but so far I seem to have been very lucky health wise.
I think I've been stuck behind you in a traffic queue and latterly, had no option to overtake your stumbling steps and girth in my local Aldi.
Kindly do the right thing and give your car keys to your kids and let them sell your Nissan Micra.
 
I shouldn't have looked at this thread. Today is my 67th birthday. I'm home alone, bedded down and looking at a right lower leg that looks as though the brigade of Foot Guards has been marking time on it. Having, over the past seven years hyper tension, diabetes, a couple of arthroscopies, a radical prostatectomy swiftly followed by the fitting of an artificial urinary sphincter and circumcision (stop laughing in the back there) and providing the memsahib with the perfect reason for withdrawing conjugal rights ("Ugh. You look revolting. The sound you can hear is my libido making for a reverse slope position".) I thought things couldn't get much worse. Cue the cynical laughter.
A recent jaunt along Hadrian's Wall turned a sore knee into an inability, on a bad day, to walk more than 200metres without wincing. My Doc, known as Dr Mengele to some, told me that I was becoming bow legged on one side (But how, I'm not a rider, let alone ex Cav!) and as a result, the gap between upper and lower knee was compressed and the cartilage both trapped and escaping. The solution? An "upper tibial osteotomy". The lower leg is opened up, ligaments and muscle separated from the bone and a wedge cut out of the tibia. The tibia is then bent so the two ends meet and the whole thing bolted together with a plate before the whole shooting match is stitched back together.
Today is day five post op. Looking down, from knee to ankle is a varicolored bruise that not even LSD could provoke, punctuated by blisters of escaped bone marrow. I'm on sticks and using them makes me squeal like a stuck pig. Mrs Rickshaw has had to go and assist her frail and increasingly doolally ma and Rickshaw Minor is oblivious down in Australia where he is fighting Parkinson's. Rickshaw Mini Minor is equally oblivious as he is swotting for his pre LE commission interviews and boards as well as catering for two young children who are on the autistic spectrum.

Now, why have poured all this onto the page? Two reasons: getting old is shiite and shiite happens. Secondly, there is always somebody worse off than you so if I have generated a little schadenfreude for some and a snigger of "Rickshaw bloody deserves it" in others, then my job is done. Oh, finally, painkillers mean no booze. Happy Birthday me.
Are you still there???
1656023504529.png


Happy birthday, Rikkers
 

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