There are mornings when I go for a walk because I know exercise is good for me.<\/p>\n
And there are mornings when I go because I know what I will be like if I don\u2019t.<\/p>\n
I\u2019ll be a little more restless. A little less clear-headed. Somehow not quite myself.<\/p>\n
Exercise has become so integral to my wellbeing that I barely separate physical health from mental health anymore. Sometimes it is a long walk. Sometimes I ride my bike. I do Pilates. I dance \u2014 occasionally with considerably more enthusiasm than coordination.<\/p>\n
The activity changes. The effect is remarkably consistent.<\/p>\n
I nearly always feel better afterwards.<\/p>\n
For years, I assumed this was simply because movement lifted my mood and made me feel physically stronger.<\/p>\n
It does, of course.<\/p>\n
But increasingly, research is giving us a fascinating glimpse of what may also be happening inside the brain when we move.<\/p>\n
One of the most interesting pieces of that story is a protein with a rather unmemorable name: brain-derived neurotrophic factor, or BDNF.<\/p>\n
And despite the clunky terminology, it may help explain something many of us have experienced intuitively for years.<\/p>\n
Movement doesn\u2019t just exercise the body.<\/p>\n
It appears to create conditions in which the brain can adapt, learn and remain resilient too.<\/p>\n
The molecule with the rather wonderful nickname<\/p>\n
BDNF is involved in the survival, growth and functioning of neurons and plays an important role in synaptic plasticity \u2014 the brain\u2019s capacity to modify connections in response to experience.<\/p>\n
Neuroscientist John Ratey famously described BDNF as something like \u201cMiracle-Gro for the brain.\u201d<\/p>\n
It is a memorable description, although naturally the biology is considerably more complicated than sprinkling fertiliser over the hippocampus.<\/p>\n
What interests me is the relationship researchers have found between physical exercise and this molecule.<\/p>\n
In one small study involving 22 sedentary older adults with an average age of 69, researchers examined what happened after an acute bout of aerobic exercise.<\/p>\n
Serum BDNF increased transiently by about 16%.<\/p>\n
Interestingly, the same response wasn\u2019t seen in the already exercise-trained older adults in the study, reminding us that human biology rarely behaves as neatly as headlines would like it to. Fitness level, exercise intensity and even whether researchers measure BDNF in serum or plasma can affect the results. search involving late-middle-aged and older adults has also investigated changes in BDNF following individual sessions of moderate continuous exercise and higher-intensity interval exercise, alongside changes in cognitive performance. ldn\u2019t interpret the research as saying, \u201cTake a 30-minute walk and instantly rejuvenate your brain.\u201d<\/p>\n
That would be rather convenient.<\/p>\n
What it does suggest is more interesting: exercise seems to trigger biological responses associated with the brain\u2019s ability to adapt.<\/p>\n
And those responses can occur after an individual bout of movement, not only after months or years of training.<\/p>\n
Your brain remains more changeable than we once thought<\/p>\n
Perhaps the larger story here is neuroplasticity itself.<\/p>\n
For much of the last century, we tended to think of the brain as something that developed when we were young, reached maturity and then entered a long, slow process of decline.<\/p>\n
We now know the picture is far more dynamic.<\/p>\n
The adult brain retains a capacity to change in response to experience, learning and behaviour throughout life.<\/p>\n
That doesn\u2019t mean aging disappears. Nor does it mean we can \u201chack\u201d our way out of every age-related change \u2014 a phrase I hope eventually follows \u201canti-aging\u201d into retirement.<\/p>\n
But it does mean later life isn\u2019t neurologically static.<\/p>\n
And I find that enormously encouraging.<\/p>\n
At this stage of life, many of us are learning new things, travelling to unfamiliar places, taking up hobbies, building relationships, adapting to retirement or discovering interests we had little time for while working.<\/p>\n
Our brains are participating in all of it.<\/p>\n
Movement appears to be one of the things that helps support that adaptability.<\/p>\n
I stopped thinking about exercise as something I had to do<\/p>\n
I\u2019ve exercised for most of my adult life, but my relationship with it has changed.<\/p>\n
When I was younger, exercise was easier to associate with appearance, fitness targets or staying in shape.<\/p>\n
Now I think about it very differently.<\/p>\n
I want to remain able to walk for hours through a new city.<\/p>\n
I want to ride my bike.<\/p>\n
I want the strength and balance to keep doing Pilates.<\/p>\n
I want to dance.<\/p>\n
I want to travel, explore, learn and keep saying yes to things that require me to have a functioning body.<\/p>\n
And I want my brain to remain as engaged and adaptable as possible while I\u2019m doing them.<\/p>\n
This is why health and vitality have become one of the central ingredients in the way I think about thriving in retirement.<\/p>\n
Not because I want to turn retirement into an endless health-improvement project. There are quite enough things in modern life demanding that we optimise ourselves.<\/p>\n
I simply want my health to support the life I want to live.<\/p>\n
That distinction matters.<\/p>\n
Perhaps the best exercise is the one that makes you want to come back tomorrow<\/p>\n
Exercise advice can become intimidating remarkably quickly.<\/p>\n
Heart-rate zones. Steps. Repetitions. VO2 max. Strength sessions. Recovery days.<\/p>\n
Before long you can feel as though going for a pleasant walk requires a small sports-science department.<\/p>\n
The broader evidence is reassuringly simpler.<\/p>\n
The World Health Organization recommends that adults aged 65 and over aim for 150\u2013300 minutes of moderate aerobic activity a week, or 75\u2013150 minutes of vigorous activity, alongside muscle-strengthening work and activities that support balance and functional capacity. But it also makes an important point that sometimes gets lost in the numbers:<\/p>\n
Some physical activity is better than none. enjoyment deserves more attention here too.<\/p>\n
Walking works for me because I love walking.<\/p>\n
Cycling gives me another kind of pleasure.<\/p>\n
Pilates gives me strength, concentration and that humbling reminder that apparently tiny movements can make muscles complain quite loudly.<\/p>\n
Dancing doesn\u2019t feel much like exercise at all.<\/p>\n
And perhaps that variety is part of the answer.<\/p>\n
A sustainable exercise habit doesn\u2019t necessarily begin with asking, \u201cWhat is the scientifically perfect workout?\u201d<\/p>\n
It might begin with a much more useful question:<\/p>\n
What kind of movement can I imagine still wanting to do next year?<\/p>\n
The benefits extend far beyond one brain molecule<\/p>\n
BDNF is fascinating, but I wouldn\u2019t want to turn it into the latest wellness celebrity.<\/p>\n
Exercise affects far more than one molecule.<\/p>\n
For older adults, regular physical activity is associated with benefits across cardiovascular health, metabolic health, sleep, mental wellbeing, cognitive health, bone health and physical functioning. It also helps preserve the strength and balance that allow us to remain independent. t point increasingly matters to me.<\/p>\n
We often talk about longevity as though the objective is simply to accumulate more birthdays.<\/p>\n
I think health span is the more interesting idea.<\/p>\n
What do we want to be able to do with those extra years?<\/p>\n
That question appears in my own retirement work because I think it changes the conversation.<\/p>\n
Living longer isn\u2019t particularly inspiring on its own.<\/p>\n
Living longer while still being able to walk along the beach, get on a bicycle, play with grandchildren, travel somewhere unfamiliar, dance badly in your kitchen or get yourself up off the floor after Pilates?<\/p>\n
Now we\u2019re talking.<\/p>\n
Movement is also a vote for the person you still intend to become<\/p>\n
There is another reason I think exercise matters enormously in later life, and this one is less scientific.<\/p>\n
Every time we move deliberately, we are behaving as though the future still matters.<\/p>\n
We are investing in a body we intend to use.<\/p>\n
We are acting on the assumption that there will be places worth walking to, people worth visiting, things worth learning and experiences worth having.<\/p>\n
I like that.<\/p>\n
Retirement can sometimes be discussed as though our main job is to preserve what remains.<\/p>\n
But I don\u2019t think of it that way.<\/p>\n
This part of life can still contain growth, curiosity, reinvention and enormous possibility.<\/p>\n
And perhaps one of the simplest ways we support that possibility is to keep moving.<\/p>\n
Not because one walk will miraculously transform the brain.<\/p>\n
Not because BDNF is a fountain of youth.<\/p>\n
And certainly not because we have to spend our retirement collecting health metrics.<\/p>\n
But because our brains and bodies remain responsive to what we repeatedly ask them to do.<\/p>\n
These days, when I head out walking, climb onto my bike, go to Pilates or put music on and dance, I rarely think about BDNF.<\/p>\n
I\u2019m usually thinking about the weather, something I\u2019m writing, where I\u2019d like to travel next, or whether anyone can see me dancing.<\/p>\n
But somewhere underneath all that, my body is responding.<\/p>\n
And perhaps my brain is too.<\/p>\n
That seems like one more very good reason to keep moving.<\/p>\n
If you\u2019re thinking more broadly about how you want to stay healthy, purposeful and engaged in the years ahead, I\u2019ve created a free guide to thriving in retirement. It explores some of the areas I believe matter most in creating a retirement that isn\u2019t simply longer, but richer, more intentional and genuinely your own.<\/p>\n