An essay on ageing, blood pressure and learning to live with medicine.
Twelve years ago, my blood pressure read 140/80.
The doctor prescribed Telmisartan 40 mg.
Everyone said that it was normal for my age and I should stop the medicine.
“It would make my body dependent on it,” they warned, citing homoeopaths, alternative medicine practitioners and YouTube doctors, whose popularity depended on conspiracy theories about big pharma companies wanting to increase their profit margins.
But I have always been inclined to read and understand things for myself. Besides, I value professional advice and cannot go against someone who has spent years studying and practising medicine.
So grudgingly, I continued taking the pill after dinner, every night.
Meanwhile, I also read.
I had no underlying condition warranting hypertension, except that I was in the early 40s and on the other side of prime.
We can colour our hair black, but what about the organs and systems greying inside the body?
The more I read, the more I felt ageing itself was the factor. My arteries were hardening.
I remember asking the doctor once if I could stop the medication.
“Why should you?” he shot back.
“I don't like the idea of becoming dependent on a medicine.”
“Think of it as food you take daily to nourish the body.”
The comparison silenced me, and thereafter, the thought about discontinuing the medicine never crossed my mind.
However, four years ago, the topic resurfaced.
That was after the pandemic.
I was with the doctor for my annual blood test review.
His assistant had noted my BP.
120/80.
The doctor confirmed the reading with his personal machine.
120/80.
The other parameters, too, looked good.
“Telmisartan 20,” he wrote on the prescription. “I have halved your dosage,” he smiled as he informed me.
“Can we get rid of it completely?”
“No!”
The tone settled the matter.
Nonetheless, I had breached a milestone.
Over the years, though the idea of stopping the medicine came up once in a while, I could never commit to it.
I also discussed it with a doctor friend.
He suggested a reduction protocol, but the hesitation in his voice was palpable.
The matter was buried there.
Then, twelve days ago, the subject came up again.
I am in the clinic for a minor ailment. It is afternoon. The day has not gone well, and I am sad.
His assistant records my BP.
110/70.
“Sir, can we reconsider the BP medication?” I ask as soon as I am in the doctor's cabin.
“Your current dosage?”
“Telmisartan 20 mg.”
“No boss!” His voice was firm. “Your heart will live long,” he added. “In any case, it’s an extremely low dose.”
“Okay, Sir.”
However, I am not dejected.
“I have read that many doctors continue a small dose with age, even when BP remains normal, simply to reduce long-term cardiovascular risk.”
He simply nods.
Five days ago, the matter surfaced again.
I am on the follow-up visit.
The afternoon is pleasant.
The paramedic checks my BP.
110/70.
He writes it down on a tiny chit along with other vitals, gets up from his chair and leaves it on the doctor's desk.
I wait for my turn.
“How are you feeling?”
“Much better. Only faint bloating.”
“Okay,” he says, and except for probiotics for another week stops everything else.
“I am also stopping your BP medicine,” he adds.
“No, Sir, no.”
The doctor holds his pen from writing on the prescription.
“Why?”
“Sir,” I try not to be contradicting him. “My annual check-up is scheduled shortly. Let's see how other parameters hold.”
“I am particularly concerned about my lipid profile, especially triglycerides, which for the most part has remained borderline high,” I continue.
“Sir, let's decide after that.”
The doctor agrees.
As I turn the car's ignition and drive home, the question lingers.
It hasn’t let me since.
I don’t know what brought down my BP.
Whether my blood vessels have regained suppleness, or something else has quietly changed inside the body, I cannot say.
All I know is that over the last year, along with weight training, I have begun walking for 30–40 minutes three to four days a week and sleeping more.
The body slowly becomes less tolerant of neglect, poor sleep, inconsistent movement and fatigue. This is when understanding how recovery begins driving progress after 40 becomes important.
Key Takeaways
- Ageing often reveals itself less through appearance and more through quiet physiological shifts inside the body.
- Long-term health management after forty is frequently about stability, not dramatic reversals.
- Recovery habits such as sleep and walking sometimes influence health more subtly than we realise.
- Medicine and movement do not always exist in opposition to each other.
- Sustainable fitness increasingly becomes a relationship with maintenance, structure and observation.
Related Concepts
- Recovery as adaptation rather than rest
- Walking as cardiovascular maintenance
- Strength training and long-term resilience
- Ageing and vascular stiffness
- Fatigue as physiological feedback
- Sustainable movement systems after forty
- Recomposition through consistency rather than intensity
Frequently Asked Questions
Can walking really influence blood pressure over time?
Consistent walking may support cardiovascular health, recovery quality and metabolic stability over long periods. Its effects are often gradual rather than dramatic, especially when combined with better sleep and sustainable movement patterns.
Is taking long-term BP medication necessarily harmful?
Not necessarily. Many people remain on low-dose medication for years under medical supervision, particularly when physicians believe it reduces long-term cardiovascular risk.
Why does health after forty feel different psychologically?
Because the focus often shifts from optimisation to preservation and structural maintenance. Recovery capacity changes, and the body becomes less forgiving of inconsistency.
Can strength training and medication coexist?
Yes. For many people over forty, medicine, walking, recovery and strength training become part of the same broader maintenance ecosystem rather than competing approaches.
Why do recovery habits become more important with age?
As recovery capacity changes, sleep, movement quality, fatigue management and consistency increasingly influence how the body adapts to stress.
The body changes slowly enough that we often miss the transition while living through it.
Sometimes the most meaningful shifts do not announce themselves through dramatic transformation, but through quieter signals — lower fatigue, steadier mornings, calmer blood reports and the growing realisation that recovery itself may now be shaping progress.
That is perhaps where the next phase of fitness after forty truly begins: not in intensity, but in adaptation.