He does what he can. Pat Naughton sprints up and down the hallway of his bungalow in Nenagh, cycling through the movements of the long jump, high jump, shot put, events he's practised for more than half a century.
Fifteen minutes every morning, another five or six in the evening. In between he'll often head out the back to chop wood or stroll over to his 20 acres of land and work on the electric fence, which he needs to get finished this week as 20 new cattle arrive for the summer.
He's 87 now, which means it's 60 years since he won his third Irish decathlon title, 59 years since he gave up the sport, 49 years since he took it back up, and, in that time, he has accrued 336 masters medals - "most of them gold".
It's two months since Naughton last competed - winning five events at the Irish Masters Indoor Championships - and God knows how long 'til he can do so again.
In athletics, it's often said the only competition that counts is with yourself but, for Naughton, that's more and more the case for a different reason. "The guys are dying out," he says.
At this year's national indoors he had no rivals in the over-85 category, not that it stopped him pouring every last drop of his will into each event.
Naughton can run 60 metres in 14 seconds, long jump well over two metres and heave the 4kg shot eight metres. He'll turn 88 in September and already has plans to compete in a five-event pentathlon at the age of 90.
As he recently joked to a colleague: "If I die in the next five or six years, it won't be from my heart."
When we speak, he has just finished a 90-minute session of digging in his garden and he's looking forward to a steak dinner.
The last few years Naughton has taken the odd supplement but his approach to nutrition is all about simplicity: "I'm convinced if you have a sensible diet and if you eat things you like, you don't have to (take) any multi-vitamins."
There are three key things he misses these days, no more than everyone else. The first is wandering down the town, that lucky dip of who you might run into on any given day.
The second is club training. If all was normal, Naughton would go down the road to the indoor track three mornings a week and knock out a 90-minute session of running, throwing and jumping.
He'd be back there with the Nenagh Olympic crew in the evenings and watch others train, dispensing advice to younger charges, his well of wisdom and experience running deeper than most can imagine.
Perhaps the thing he misses most are the real-life catch-ups with relatives. His daughter lives 20 minutes away in Ballina and Naughton and his wife Joan typically visited at least once a month. But, all in all, he's in a good spot. Can't complain.
"It's not knocking me too much," he says. "I'm very occupied with my lifestyle, doing all the things I like doing, and I have a fairly full life."
Every Friday his grandson, Joseph McEvoy, will drop groceries up to the house and whether it's nature or nurture that's behind it, the 19-year-old is already following his lead on the track.
McEvoy won the Irish U-20 60m hurdles title in January and is one of Ireland's best young multi-eventers. "He's very promising," says his granddad.
Naughton's brother, Seán, is a luminary figure in Irish athletics. He managed multiple Irish teams in the '80s and was the key figure behind the construction of Nenagh's indoor stadium, the first - and for a long time the only - one of its kind in the country. His son, Joe, was also a three-time national decathlon champion in the '90s and still holds the Irish heptathlon record.
These days Joe is a personal trainer in London and when Naughton said to him recently that his days of going abroad might be behind him, his son was quick to set him straight. "He said: 'Don't ever have the word 'never' in your vocabulary.'"
In his 20s, Naughton had been a formidable performer. He grew up idolising Bob Tisdall - "my patron saint" - who was raised in Nenagh and went on to win gold in the 400m hurdles at the 1932 Olympics.
Naughton once led over the last barrier in the national final of the 400m hurdles but he faded to finish second. Sixty years later he ran into the gold medallist at a reunion, an athlete he'd coached during his time at UCC, and Naughton joked that he'd let him win.
But, as he says now: "I wouldn't let a child beat me running, never mind a competitor."
For the past 48 years, he has never missed the National Masters Championships and he trains for it "like it's an Olympic event". He remembers his first one, aged 39, having barely run a step in the preceding decade. Naughton was late with his entry and one of those bureaucratic jobsworths told him he couldn't compete. "I said: 'You'll have to pull me off the track.'"
He's got five medals from the European Masters and up until the age of 82, he was still venturing abroad for competitions. In recent years he's taken the foot off the gas - slightly.
He wound down the family business and instead of wintering cattle, he now buys them every April and sells them on in October.
He's had a touch of rheumatism in his neck for 20 years and a few years ago he strained his back while chopping wood, so before he gets out of bed each morning he does a few minutes of exercises to increase his mobility.
In his late 20s he fried his system through over-training and, as a result, he's always taken a sensible approach as a masters athlete. If he has one piece of advice for the young generation, it's to avoid training on the road.
"I think it's not great for the limbs, you can't beat the grass," he says. "I think they're burning out a lot of people in a lot of sports."
About the only event he can't do these days is the hurdles, owing to a hamstring strain a couple of years back. "But I can do high jumps, long jumps, sprints and the throws are the easiest," he says.
This year's National Masters Championships are pencilled in for August 16 which, if all goes to plan, would be in the fifth phase of unlocking the lockdown, when all forms of sport are set to be permitted. If it happens, he'll be ready.