In the spring of 2023, John Twineham, ’69, had a problem. His 75th birthday dinner was two months away, and he was a dozen pounds too heavy for his favorite suit. He started to diet.
By summer, he looked svelte, but his success pushed him to do more. He hadn’t lifted weights in decades, but in April 2024, he started to bench-press, lifting around 165 pounds. It was only the beginning.
Twineham is not a man of moderation when it comes to hobbies. He made his career at the U.S. Postal Service because it gave him the flexibility to travel to bridge tournaments. For several years in the ’80s, he trained as a bodybuilder to get in better shape—and to gain an advantage at the bridge table. “Almost any sport has some psychology in it,” he says. “I decided I would try to be a little more physically imposing.” His other obsessions include collecting fine wines (amassing 1,400 bottles), pre-1600 Japanese swords, and thousands of science fiction books. “Whenever I get interested in things, I go whole hog.”
‘It’s great when you get 20-year-olds to come over and dap you up’
True to form, soon after returning to weightlifting, he was training three times a week at a community college gym near his home in Coos Bay, Oregon, and competing a half-dozen times a year. Last November, at a meet in Bremerton, Washington, the 77-year-old benched 231.5 pounds—more than 50 pounds over his body weight—the third-best-ever in his age and weight class in the U.S. Powerlifting Association (until a new No. 1 bumped him to No. 4 in February).
The sport has brought him a host of physical, mental, and social benefits, not least the admiration of undergrads stunned to see a senior citizen pushing 225 pounds at the gym. “It’s great when you get 20-year-olds to come over and dap you up.”
Twineham would love to bench 300 pounds before he’s 80, though he knows time is a tough opponent. Even now, he’s usually the only entry in his category at meets. “I’m just competing with the record books,” he says. So he pushes ahead. “I’m working on trying to be better than I was.”
Sam Scott is a senior writer at Stanford. Email him at sscott3@stanford.edu.
