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I'm 82 and until about six months ago I thought I was just winding down. That's the phrase I used. Winding down. Like a clock that's been running for 80-odd years and is finally starting to slow. I said it to my wife. I said it to my son. I said it to myself every afternoon when I sat down in my chair at half past one and didn't get up again until the six o'clock news. I wasn't sick. Nothing was wrong, exactly. I just had nothing left by lunchtime. I'd get up in the morning feeling like I hadn't slept. I'd have my breakfast, read the paper, maybe potter in the garden for twenty minutes. And that was me. Done. The rest of the day was just sitting. My wife would suggest things. A drive to the coast. Lunch at the local pub. A walk around the garden centre. And I'd say yes and then when it came to it, I just couldn't be bothered. Not because I didn't want to. I did. I just didn't have it in me. I started turning down things I used to love. My son invited me to watch his boy play footy on a Saturday morning. I said no because I knew I'd be standing on a cold field for an hour and I didn't have the energy for it. My old mate from the community garden asked if I wanted to come back — just an hour or two a week. I said my knees weren't up to it. But really, it wasn't my knees. It was everything. I felt like I was watching my own life through a window. Everyone around me was doing things and I was just… sitting there. My wife started finishing my sentences because I'd trail off halfway through. I'd forget what I went into a room for — three, four times a day. I'd read the same paragraph of my book over and over because nothing was going in. I put it all down to age. I'm 82. What do you expect? My father was the same at my age. His father probably was too. You get old, you slow down, you sit more. That's just how it goes. I genuinely believed that. Then my daughter-in-law sent me something to read. She's always sending me health articles — half the time I ignore them. But this one caught my eye because it wasn't about a disease or a diet. It was about a molecule. Nitric oxide. I'd never heard of it. Turns out, it's something your body produces naturally. Its job is to keep your blood vessels open and relaxed so blood can flow freely — to your muscles, your organs, your brain. When you're younger, your body makes plenty of it. Everything works. Blood flows. Oxygen gets where it needs to go. You've got energy because your body is actually getting the fuel it needs. But as you age — and especially after 60 — production drops. Significantly. By your 70s and 80s, your body could be producing a fraction of what it used to. And when nitric oxide drops, so does your blood flow. Less blood to your muscles means they tire faster. Less blood to your brain means foggy thinking, poor concentration, forgetting why you walked into the kitchen. Less oxygen getting around your body means that heavy, flat, drained feeling that never seems to lift. I read that and I felt like someone had just described my last three years. Every single symptom. The tiredness. The brain fog. The heavy legs. The feeling of just being… spent. My body wasn't winding down because it was old. It was winding down because it wasn't getting what it needed anymore. The article said that one of the richest natural sources of dietary nitrates — the thing your body converts into nitric oxide — is beetroot. Not the sliced stuff in vinegar. Concentrated beetroot, taken daily. The nitrates in beetroot convert to nitric oxide in your body. More nitric oxide means your blood vessels open up. Better blood flow. More oxygen reaching your muscles and your brain. It also mentioned something called betalains — the compounds that give beetroot its colour. Powerful natural anti-inflammatories. They help with joint stiffness and general inflammation that builds up over the years. So you're tackling two things at once. The circulation problem and the inflammation problem. I was sceptical. I'm 82 — I've seen a lot of nonsense come and go. But I thought, it's beetroot. It's not a drug. It's a vegetable. What's the worst that can happen? So I went online and started looking at beetroot supplements. And that's when I got an education I wasn't expecting. Most of them are full of rubbish. I looked at four or five different brands. Every single one had a list of ingredients longer than it needed to be. Fillers and bulking agents to make the capsule look full while keeping the cost down. One brand I looked at — the beetroot wasn't even the first ingredient listed. A filler was. Then I started looking at where they were made. Half of them are made overseas then imported and repackaged in Australia. The labels don't make that obvious. You'd have to dig to find out. And the beetroot itself — in most of these products, it's not organic. That bothered me. Conventional beetroot is grown with synthetic pesticides. Those chemicals don't just sit on the surface. They absorb into the root. Into the very thing you're concentrating and putting into a capsule. So you could be taking something every morning thinking it's helping you, while also swallowing traces of chemicals your body has to deal with. At 82, my body's got enough to deal with. I'm not adding to the pile. I almost gave up looking. Then my daughter-in-law — bless her — sent me another link. BeetaMed™. I looked at the ingredients. One ingredient. Organic beetroot. That's it. No fillers. No bulking agents. No magnesium stearate. No rice flour. Nothing. 1,300mg per serving. Just pure organic beetroot in a capsule. Certified by Organic Farmers & Growers — OF&G. That's one of the strictest organic certifications in the country. It means the beetroot is verified organic from the field to the capsule. No pesticides. No herbicides. No chemical nonsense. And it's made in Victoria. Not shipped in from abroad. Made here in Australia, in a GMP-certified facility. I ordered a bottle. Two capsules every morning with my cuppa. First week — nothing dramatic. Maybe I wasn't quite as flat by the afternoon, but I wasn't sure. Second week — I noticed I was still pottering at three o'clock instead of being in the chair by two. Third week — my wife suggested a drive to the coast and I said yes. And I meant it. And we went. And I walked along the seafront for twenty minutes without wanting to stop. That hadn't happened in over a year. By the end of the first month, the fog had lifted. I don't mean I suddenly felt 40 again. I'm not daft. But the heaviness was gone. I was finishing sentences again. I was reading my book and actually remembering what happened in the last chapter. I was getting through a whole day without feeling like I'd run a marathon by lunchtime. My son noticed. He said, "Dad, you seem more like yourself." He was right. I'd been disappearing — slowly, gradually, without anyone really noticing — and now I was coming back. I went back to the community garden last month. Just an hour. But I was there. And I've said yes to the footy on Saturday. BeetaMed™ is rated excellent on Trustpilot. They sell out regularly — I've learnt to keep a spare bottle in the cupboard. Right now they're throwing in a free bottle when you order two. That's three months' supply. I don't know how long that offer lasts — it comes and goes. You've got a full 30-day money-back guarantee. Two whole months to try it. If you don't feel any different, every cent back. They deliver within 24 to 48 hours. If you've been telling yourself you're just winding down — that this is just what 70 or 80 looks like — I said the same thing. Every day, for three years, I said that. I wasn't winding down. I was running on empty. There's a difference. https://go.usevelaro.com/BeetaMed/im-67-and-these-organic-beetroot-capsules-gave-me-back-my-vitality-after-years-of-bloody-aching-joints-and-constant-tiredness