Checkmate the Calendar: Why Age is Only an Opening Gambit

We’ve all heard the clichés: "You’re only as old as you feel," or "Age is just a number." But let’s be honest—our perception of time shifts like a complex endgame. When you’re twenty, fifty feels like a distant, foggy mountain peak, a different continent entirely. When you finally hike up to fifty, you look back and realize you still feel like the thirty-year-old version of yourself, just with better shoes and perhaps a bit more "theory" under your belt. By the time seventy rolls around, fifty looks like the adventurous adolescence you didn't fully appreciate at the time.

In life, as in Chess, we often let the "clock" dictate our moves. We think if we haven't achieved a certain "rating" or milestone by a specific birthday, the game is essentially over. But here’s the truth: Your chronological age is just a setting on the timer. It doesn’t define the quality of your moves.

The Mid-Game Shift: From Calculation to Intuition

In the world of professional chess, there is a long-standing myth that your brain peaks at twenty-five and it’s all downhill from there. People point to the lightning-fast calculations of young Grandmasters who can see twenty moves ahead in a fraction of a second.

However, chess—like life—is divided into different phases of mastery. In your youth, you have raw speed. You can calculate dozens of variations, but you might lack the "positional squeeze" that only comes from having seen ten thousand different board patterns. As we age, our "calculation" might slow down by a millisecond, but our intuition skyrockets.

This is the "Old Man Strength" of the mind. You stop needing to calculate every single branch of the tree because you’ve seen this forest before. You know instinctively which paths lead to a dead end and which lead to victory.

Real-Life Grandmasters of the "Late Game"

If you feel like the clock is ticking too fast, look at those who refused to let a number dictate their resignation.

Consider Vera Menchik, who broke barriers in the early 20th century, or more modernly, the legendary Viktor Korchnoi. Korchnoi didn't just "play" into his later years; he remained a terrifying opponent for world champions half his age well into his 70s and 80s. He famously said that he didn't feel old as long as he was still finding new ideas on the board. He wasn't playing as a "senior player"—he was playing as Viktor.

Outside of the 64 squares, history is littered with people who treated their fifties, sixties, and seventies like a fresh opening:

• Julia Child didn't even learn to cook French cuisine until she was nearly 40. She didn't host her first television show until she was 50.

• Colonel Sanders was 65 years old, broke and living in his car, when he started franchising his chicken recipe.

• Grandma Moses began her prolific painting career at 78. She didn't "hold back" because of her age; she simply realized she had more stories to tell through her brush.

These individuals understood that the person they were "inside"—the chef, the entrepreneur, the artist—wasn't tied to the date on their birth certificate.

Don’t Let the "Rating" Hold You Back

If you’re fifty and want to start a new career, or seventy and want to learn a new language, the world might tell you that your "clock is low." They see the number and assume you’re in a desperate scramble. They want you to play defensively, to "simplify the position" and head for a quiet draw.

But why play for a draw when you can play for a win?

Our chronological age doesn't have to define us. Just because you have been on the planet for six or seven decades doesn't mean you have to stop being aggressive, curious, or bold. If you feel like a sharp, attacking player inside, play that way. The board doesn't know how many candles were on your last cake. It only knows the strength of the move you just made.

Living Without the Clock

When you stop focusing on the "time remaining," you start focusing on the beauty of the position. You realize that fifty is just the start of a deep, rich middlegame. You realize that seventy is an endgame where every single move carries the weight of wisdom and the grace of experience.

Just be the person you are inside. If that person is a student, go back to school. If that person is a traveler, pack your bags. If that person is a dreamer, start the project.

In chess, the most beautiful games aren't always the shortest ones; they are the ones where a player finds a brilliant resource in a difficult position, regardless of how much time is left on the clock. You are the architect of your next move. Make it a bold one.