I'm a golfer, and what are the two sports you can do till you

Hear, O seekers of harmony between body and spirit, the words of Matthew McConaughey, who declared: “I’m a golfer, and what are the two sports you can do till you drop? Golf and surfing. They’re great for you limber-wise, they’re great for you health-wise, and they put you in sweet locations.” Though these words appear playful, they conceal a wisdom born of balance, of longevity, and of the joy of union with nature. They remind us that the pursuits we choose should not only strengthen the body, but also nourish the spirit, offering renewal even as the years advance.

For in naming golf and surfing, McConaughey points not only to pastime, but to two ways of life. Both are arts of patience and flow: golf, with its steady rhythm, its quiet discipline, its communion with the green earth; and surfing, with its surrender to the sea, its embrace of motion, its partnership with the living waters. These are not sports of brute violence or fleeting youth; they are lifelong companions, shaping the body gently, keeping it limber, keeping it healthy, and setting the soul always amid “sweet locations” of nature’s beauty.

In the ancients’ time, such harmony was prized. The Greeks taught that health was not merely the absence of sickness, but the flourishing of the whole being—body, mind, and spirit. They practiced gymnastics to keep strong, philosophy to keep wise, and music to keep the soul in tune. In like fashion, McConaughey praises these sports not only for their physical benefits but for their setting: open skies, rolling seas, green fields. To play is not only to exercise the body, but to place oneself within the temple of nature.

Consider, for example, the story of Duke Kahanamoku, the Hawaiian who brought surfing to the world. He rode the waves not as a conqueror, but as one in harmony with the ocean. In his art was health, joy, and peace. Likewise, in the realm of golf, think of Bobby Jones, who spoke of the game not as battle but as a journey of character, where patience and humility outweighed mere strength. Both men embody the truth McConaughey declares: that the right sport is not merely competition, but a lifelong discipline of body and soul.

But note also the deeper wisdom in the phrase: “till you drop.” It is not youth alone that should enjoy the gift of movement; it is a birthright of all life. Too often, men think sport belongs only to the young and the strong, but McConaughey’s words reveal the truth that the right pursuits are those which can be carried even into old age. To walk the green fairways in one’s twilight years, or to ride the gentler waves with silver hair shining, is to live fully to the end. Such sports do not abandon the body as it weakens; they accompany it, whispering vitality and grace even as the years accumulate.

The teaching is plain: choose pursuits that endure. Many labors of youth are fierce but fleeting; they burn bright and vanish. But if you would live wisely, find the arts that keep you whole, not only in body but in joy. Let your sport be not destruction but renewal, not violence but balance, not exhaustion but harmony. In this way, life itself becomes a long journey of health, connection, and beauty.

Therefore, O listeners of tomorrow, take this counsel: find the “sweet locations” in your own life, the spaces where effort meets peace. Do not seek only the fire of competition, but also the calm of longevity. Let your body be trained, yes, but let your spirit be nourished too. For when the years are long, and your strength begins to wane, it is not the trophies of youth you will treasure, but the harmony you kept between yourself and the world.

So let McConaughey’s words echo as wisdom: to live greatly is not only to conquer, but to choose the paths that keep you alive in body, limber in movement, joyful in spirit, and always close to the beauty of earth and sea. Find your golf. Find your surfing. And play them, O children of life, until you drop.