Let’s just say it up front: freediving after 40 isn’t the same as freediving at 25. At least, that’s what I’ve come to understand from watching it play out among mentors, dive buddies, students, and athletes I deeply respect. The joints talk back a little louder. Sinuses develop a personality. And recovery—well, recovery starts to take the spotlight more than the training itself.
But here’s the thing: freediving after 40 doesn’t have to be a step down. From what I’ve seen—and what many divers over 40 will tell you—it can actually be deeper, more focused, and more rewarding. The key isn’t trying to train like you did in your twenties; it’s knowing how to work with the body you have now. And that shift, while humbling, opens the door to a whole new kind of mastery.
This isn’t a guide written by someone who’s been through their forties yet. But it is based on countless conversations, observations, and lessons passed down from older divers who still crush their sessions with skill and grace. If you’re navigating the second half of life and still feel the pull of the deep, this one’s for you.
Here’s one of the biggest things I’ve learned from watching divers in their forties and beyond: training capacity might still be high, but the window for recovery gets smaller. It’s not that your nervous system slows down—it just becomes less forgiving. Dive hard without proper rest and the effects last longer. Ignore small signs of fatigue, and you might be paying for it all week.
Recovery becomes its own form of training. Not the passive kind, but intentional, structured downtime—good sleep, smart nutrition, movement therapy, and less overall stress. That part about emotional peace? Not fluff. It’s fuel. Recovery isn’t the thing you do after the dive. It is the dive—just on land.
One big shift I’ve seen: strength training isn’t just a nice-to-have. It’s essential. In your twenties, staying in shape could mean yoga and occasional cardio. But past 40, maintaining muscle mass becomes non-negotiable—not just for performance, but for injury prevention, joint health, and metabolic function.
The focus isn’t on intensity or ego lifts. It’s about consistency, clean form, and exercises that protect your spine, hips, and shoulders. Think slow, controlled movements. Deadlifts. Pulls. Pushes. Core. The kind of training that supports longer dives, more relaxed equalization, and better control underwater. The strongest older divers I know don’t lift to prove anything. They lift to stay in the game.
This one can’t be emphasized enough: mobility is no longer optional. It’s what keeps everything else functional. If you want efficient finning, smooth mouthfills, and a body that moves with fluidity, you need to address mobility—especially around the hips, thoracic spine, shoulders, and ankles.
The older divers I learn the most from tend to have mobility baked into their routine. Not just static stretching, but dynamic warmups, foam rolling, and breath-linked movement. They don’t wait until they’re injured. They build range now, so they don’t lose it later. If you’re in your forties and stretching only happens after something starts hurting, it’s time to rethink your approach.
Gone are the days of winging it with energy drinks and gas station sandwiches. Past 40, your body starts treating every careless meal as an insult. You feel it in your breath-hold. You feel it in your joints. You feel it in your energy levels.
I’ve heard this again and again: stay ahead of hydration by starting the day before the dive. Use electrolytes, not just water. Keep your blood sugar stable—especially before depth sessions. Anti-inflammatory foods like greens, fish, turmeric, and berries can work wonders on post-dive soreness and recovery. It’s not about going extreme. It’s about being intentional. And if you’re honest with yourself, you probably already know the foods that leave you sluggish versus the ones that make you feel light in the water.
This one gets less sexy the older we get, but it’s easily the most powerful. Sleep isn’t just for mood or energy. It directly affects your CO2 tolerance, immune health, and injury resilience. Chronic sleep debt—common among busy professionals, parents, and travelers—can sabotage your freediving gains in silence.
Older divers who still perform at a high level almost always have sleep dialed in. They have routines. They invest in blackout curtains, mouth tape, magnesium, or even sleep studies. If you snore or wake up groggy, it might not just be age—it might be sleep apnea, and that’s worth checking out. Oxygen matters, after all.
When you’re 25, pain is something you shrug off. When you’re over 40, pain is a message. It’s data. It tells you when to back off and when to seek support. The people who keep diving late into life are the ones who pay attention to small things early.
Have a physio you trust. Learn to listen to that tight shoulder or that pinchy hip. Modify your training when needed, and let go of the idea that pushing through pain is somehow virtuous. That mindset breaks more divers than it builds.
One of the most overlooked truths: the best older divers build margin into everything. They don’t rush their dive day. They don’t scramble for food or throw gear together last minute. They plan. They prepare. They pad their schedule.
That kind of foresight pays off. It reduces stress. It keeps the nervous system calm. It leads to smoother dives. Diving after 40 doesn’t mean you’re fragile—it just means your tolerance for chaos is lower. And that’s not a weakness. It’s an advantage, if you learn to use it.
Here’s what might be the most beautiful shift: performance becomes less about depth and more about depth of experience. Older divers stop chasing numbers for ego. Instead, they refine technique, improve relaxation, sharpen awareness.
It’s not that big dives disappear. Many continue to hit new personal bests into their fifties and sixties. But there’s more patience. More body wisdom. More ability to say not today and feel proud of that decision. The best divers I know over 40 are often the most elegant—not just in the water, but in their attitude toward the sport.
In your twenties, you dive for the thrill. In your forties, you dive for meaning. The older divers I’ve met are drawn to shared experiences, good conversations, and crews that value safety and depth—not just in meters, but in connection.
This part is underrated: dive buddies matter. Not just for logistics, but for longevity. The right crew keeps you laughing, accountable, and grounded. They’ll call you out when you’re pushing too hard. And they’ll clap for you when you finally hit that clean, calm dive after a tough plateau.
Yes, the question always comes up. What about magnesium, omega-3s, beetroot, collagen? There’s some science behind all of it. But none of it matters if the basics aren’t in place.
Start with food, sleep, movement, hydration, and stress regulation. If you’ve nailed those, then maybe supplements help. But if you’re hoping to out-supplement a lack of mobility or a high-stress lifestyle, the results will be underwhelming.
The thing about diving after 40 is that it asks you to grow in ways the early years never did. You start to prioritize quality over quantity. Stillness over stimulation. Precision over brute force.
And that’s the evolution freediving is meant to take us on.
You don’t need to chase meters. You need to chase mastery. You need to keep saying yes to the breath, the descent, the quiet between contractions, and the joy of coming back to the surface—not just safely, but whole.
I may not be over 40 myself, but I’ve watched enough divers go through the transition to know that it’s not the beginning of the end. It’s the beginning of diving differently—with more intention, more wisdom, and often, more joy.
If that’s the trade for fewer young and reckless dives, I’d say it’s worth every meter.