Growing up, I had this pretty clear-cut picture of what getting old looked like. You know, grandparents baking cookies, parked in recliners, maybe playing a little shuffleboard, and insisting that the lawn wasn’t for walking on. Retirement, in that version of life, meant coasting into a quieter rhythm, slowing down, taking it easy, becoming… well, old.
But now that I’m comfortably settled into middle age, somewhere between youthful recklessness and that elusive “elderly” status, I’ve noticed the script is shifting. That stereotypical image doesn’t quite fit anymore. These days, old age seems to wear two different faces.
Sure, the old-school version still exists. There are people, especially in their 80s and 90s, who carry that calm, reflective presence. They’ve earned it. My grandmother’s 97, still living on a sprawling three-acre lot, and insists on mowing her own lawn. She’s a bit of a hybrid, rooted in the old-school grit with a stubborn streak of independence that feels anything but frail.
But then there’s this newer version of aging that feels way more alive. The one that says 60 is basically 40 with better insurance, and 40 might as well be 25 with better decision-making. Retirement doesn’t mean winding down. It’s become a springboard. People are working longer, picking up hobbies, dating again, traveling, lifting weights, cracking jokes on TikTok. Age isn’t a boundary anymore. It’s a backdrop.
What really seems to have changed is the attitude. There’s more room now for people to age on their own terms. Retirement isn’t a finish line. It’s more like a reset button. And the old idea that getting older means becoming irrelevant is losing ground fast. More and more, people say they feel younger than they are, and they’re living like it too.
So yes, we’re still seeing both sides. The slower, softer version and the one that’s picking up speed. Neither’s wrong. But what’s new and kind of beautiful is the sense of possibility. Getting older used to mean fading out. Now, it looks a lot more like growing into yourself.

With honesty and self-awareness, sport offers a way to acknowledge the physical realities of ageing, slower movement and decreased strength. Yet at the same time, it becomes a quiet form of defiance against the common narrative that aging means decline or dependence. By staying active, older adults assert their independence, uphold a sense of identity, and challenge the idea that they should fade into the background.

Dionigi’s research highlights that these individuals aren’t chasing youth or pretending they haven’t aged—they’re actively redefining what it means to age. Through sport, they create alternative stories about later life that value movement, purpose, and engagement. In this space, acceptance and resistance coexist, reshaping how ageing is understood and lived.

• People with disabilities

• The very frail

• Minority ethnic groups

• Individuals living in rural areas

• Those confined to care facilities

• And older adults with limited economic or cultural capital

Privilege plays a significant role in determining who is able to age actively and independently. Those with financial means often have better access to quality facilities, equipment, reliable transport, and the free time needed to engage in physical activity. Cultural capital, like education, self-confidence, and prior exposure to sport, also influences one’s willingness and comfort in participating. In contrast, marginalized individuals may face obstacles such as financial strain, social isolation, inadequate infrastructure, or internalized ageist beliefs.

Pike points out that much of the research in this area tends to focus on white, middle-class older adults, which creates a lack of insight into how aging and sport intersect with factors like race, gender, and class. For instance, older women frequently carry caregiving responsibilities that can limit their time and energy for self-care or sport. So, while sport can be a powerful tool for empowerment in later life, the opportunities to engage in it are not distributed equally, making equity a crucial concern in the conversation around aging and physical activity.

I think what makes age discrimination so common is that, unlike most other biases, it’s something we’ll all likely face ourselves, assuming we’re lucky enough to grow old. That’s what makes it both strange and a bit unsettling. I never gave ageing much thought until I reached middle age. I spent so much time and energy focusing on how i’m seen in my youth, that now that i’m older i don’t care how others see me, perhaps its the freedom that age can give that makes others jealous.

We tend to frame ageing like it’s a flaw to fix, rather than a normal, inevitable part of life. But I think that outlook is the real issue. Maybe instead of being afraid of getting older, we need to ask why that fear exists in the first place, and start unlearning it.

Both ads do a fantastic job in terms of messaging and representation. When it comes to inclusivity, though, it’s hard to pick a clear winner because each ad brings something different to the table.

Nike’s You Can’t Stop Us spotlights elite athletes across different genders, religions, and abilities. It’s visually powerful and emotionally charged, no doubt. That said, I didn’t really notice much emphasis on age diversity, it felt a bit skewed toward the peak-performance crowd.

On the other hand, This Girl Can: Be Me Again focuses more on everyday people. It features a variety of ages, body types, and fitness levels, showing folks getting active in ways that feel real and attainable. What really hit me was the honest portrayal of people dealing with lack of motivation or self-doubt, it felt like watching someone’s actual fitness journey, not a highlight reel.

So while both ads are inclusive in their own ways, This Girl Can: Be Me Again edges ahead for me. It feels more grounded, more authentic, like it was made for people who still occasionally confuse yoga poses with furniture assembly instructions.

Pike (2015) in their article, points out a trend toward the “feminisation of ageing,” referring to the fact that women, on average, live longer than men. I do agree that ageing has been “feminised” in this way, but it’s more than just biology; there’s also a strong cultural and social layer to it.

Since women make up a larger share of the older population, especially in the “fourth age” (when health concerns and dependence tend to increase), ageing is often viewed through a gendered lens. This means many of the assumptions, pressures, and stereotypes that come with ageing tend to fall more heavily on women. Older women are more likely to be seen as the default caregivers, looking after grandkids, ageing partners, or even their own elderly parents. At this point, sport and self-care often get bumped off the to-do list, right after “keep everyone else alive.”

Pike also highlights how older women frequently deal with more social isolation and financial insecurity, especially after losing a spouse. Society still seems to cling to the outdated idea that a woman’s value lies in youth, looks, and caregiving. So, as women age, they’re sometimes treated like they’ve aged out of relevance—like a flip phone in a 5G world. This is often seen in movies, a much younger actress playing love interest for twice their age male.

So yes, ageing has definitely been feminised, not just because women live longer, but because later life is still shaped by gender roles and expectations. Recognising this is key if we want to build more inclusive, supportive spaces for older women, especially in sport, where outdated stereotypes and unequal access continue to get in the way.

The rise of pickleball as a popular sport, especially among older adults, is a good example of what Pike (2015) talks about when discussing sport, ageing, and ability. While pickleball is often seen as a fun and easy game, its popularity among older people shows something deeper about how society is changing.

Pike explains that in the past, older adults were often left out of traditional sports. They were seen as too weak or inactive to take part. But now, more people are staying active into their 70s and 80s. This is part of what Pike calls “Third Age Societies” (Pike, 2015, p. 570). Pickleball fits into this shift. The game is low-impact, social, and can be played at different skill levels. This lets older people accept the changes that come with age while also proving that they don’t have to stop being active just because they are older (Pike, 2015, p. 572).

Pickleball also shows how older people are looking for activities that are fun, healthy, and social. Pike says that more older adults want to be part of things that combine movement with a sense of community, and pickleball offers that.

At the same time, the sport’s popularity has led to some conflict in public spaces. Some people call it a “turf war” between younger and older generations. This shows how older adults are sometimes seen as getting in the way when they take up space or stay active in public. Pike (2015, p. 571) says this fits into a bigger pattern where older people are treated like they don’t belong or are a problem.

In the end, the rise of pickleball is not just a passing trend. It shows how older adults are changing what it means to age. It supports Pike’s idea that ageing, visibility, and ability are being redefined in today’s world.

The Great Peterborough Pickleball Debacle” Extra Credit Assignment (3 points possible)

The 2024 debates over the redevelopment of Bonnerworth Park in Peterborough highlight important tensions between recreation, community values, and social equity. The city’s plan includes building 16 pickleball courts, a skatepark, a bike pump track, and a parking lot. While the project supports the growing popularity of pickleball, especially among older adults, it has sparked strong opposition from residents.
Many people are concerned about the loss of green space. Bonnerworth Park is one of the few remaining open grassy areas in the downtown core. Critics say turning it into mostly paved sports zones will harm the natural environment and reduce opportunities for informal recreation. Others are worried about increased noise and traffic, especially from the pickleball courts.
There is also frustration over a lack of public consultation. Residents feel that decisions were made without proper community input. Some city councillors even suggested redirecting the $4.4 million in funding to address urgent issues like housing and homelessness.
Older adults have embraced the sport of pickleball because it is accessible, social, and promotes active ageing. According to Pike (2015), sports like this can help older people accept the changes that come with age while also resisting negative stereotypes about ageing. However, in this case, ageism may still play a role. Some younger residents feel the project caters mainly to seniors and excludes other age groups. Others argue that older adults deserve active spaces too. After all, just because someone turns 65 doesn’t mean they should have to retire from fun, and definitely not from friendly competition with a paddle.
Ultimately, the Peterborough pickleball debate is about more than just a park. It reflects how communities decide whose needs matter most, how public space should be shared, and whether we truly value all generations equally.