This 66-year-old is in beast mode while we’re snoozing alarms

Mala Mansukhani isn’t your average 66-year-old. While most people her age are taking it easy, she’s hanging off ropes over raging rivers, plunging into ice baths, signing up for marathons and commando training, rappelling down cliffs, jet skiing, and trekking mountains, all fuelled by what seems like an endless supply of adrenaline and a fierce resolve to remain physically elf-reliant for as long as her body would let her. When she’s not chasing the next thrill, she’s rejuvenating with therapies like forest bathing and hyperbaric oxygen treatments. “I’m always looking for a new challenge,” says the grandmother of five (the oldest is 19 and the youngest four and a half).

We’re at her club in Mumbai, where she’s just walked in from yet another felicitation, a Women’s Day event honouring her for her work empowering older women. It’s just one more in a long list of accolades, including the ‘Fitness Icon’ award from the World Book of Records, London, in 2021. She grins, shaking her head. “I don’t even have space for these awards anymore.”

Dressed in jeans that hug just right, a crisp tee, and classic white trainers, she exudes the kind of energy that makes you rethink your life choices. (“When I look good, I feel good, which is why I constantly invest in great workout clothes.”) Her skin? Glowing—like, annoyingly so. Unfortunately, it’s not the kind you can pay for at a dermatologist’s office. “I’ve never even had a facial,” she shrugs. “It’s all home remedies and a lifetime of clean living.” Turns out she was biohacking before it was a thing.

For over 11 years, Mansukhani's mission has been to create a community of people like her, for whom ageing is just another adventure. In 2020, she wrote a book called Grow Younger, in which she shares no-nonsense, practical hacks on thinking, acting, and feeling younger. This now manifests itself as a movement with the same name. You can witness it in action on her Instagram, where she’s seen running high-energy workout sessions for seniors at Chembur Gymkhana (dance, weightlifting—pure fun, no pressure), teaming up with NGOs and organising shopping trips, painting sessions and festive celebrations.

Her experience with her mother, who has dementia, is a big force behind her wanting to create these opportunities for seniors. “When my mum fell ill, I was lucky to be there for her. It hit me—parents give their all to their children, but life doesn’t always allow kids to return the favour. So, I decided to step up.”

The shelves groaning under her awards may signal otherwise, but fitness hasn’t been a lifelong passion for her. “During gymnastics in school, I’d always slip the teacher a doctor’s note to get out of it,” she laughs. Sports were just not her thing. But when depression hit her seemingly out of nowhere in her twenties, she found herself in uncharted territory. “Back then, no one really talked about depression. I’d find myself crying a lot, unable to focus,” she recalls. On paper, nothing was drastically wrong with her life. A doctor diagnosed her with stress and suggested medication, but she refused—her mother was a single parent raising her and her three sisters, and she didn’t want to add to her worries.

Instead of popping pills, she started with walks, which got longer each week. When she realised how much better she felt, she took up running, joining local groups. In her late fifties, when she lost her husband to suicide and the depression resurfaced, she found help in movement again. Soon, she was training with Nike and ran 21 km at the Tata Mumbai Marathon at 60. Doctors warned her against it—her knees were acting up, sciatica was a looming threat, and she was told she’d be risking knee replacement surgery. But she refused to let pain get in the way. “Mind over body, always,” she reiterates. She crossed the finish line, riding an endorphin high so intense she barely felt a thing. Of course, her body had other plans—post-run, she had to slow down for eight months, focusing solely on knee rehab and stretches. Was it worth it? “Absolutely,” she says.

Yelling down her demons seems to be a theme, as she remembers the time she climbed Kalsubai, the highest peak in the Western Ghats, at 58. “I had just won the award for courage at Mrs Gladrags (she was the oldest woman to win, and the only grandmother), but deep down I knew I still had a fear of heights,” she recalls. “I didn’t feel truly deserving of the honour until I faced that fear head-on.” The ascent was tough, but the real challenge was the descent—every step testing her resolve. “It was terrifying,” she recalls. “But once I made it, the joy was indescribable.” And with that fear conquered, there was no stopping her. Next up? “Rajmachi—this time, fearlessly.”

Now, at 66, her daily schedule is unreal. 5.45 am: Meditation (non-negotiable 15 minutes). Morning: yoga, because, of course, she’s a certified yoga coach trained in Rishikesh. 4 pm: conducting movement classes for senior citizens. Evening: strength training. 8 pm to 9 pm: Tennis (because why not?). This month’s addition: Pickleball.

And she never stops learning. “London [where her older daughter and family live] is like my second home, and every time I’m there I make sure to sign up for short-term courses,” she says. Her ever-growing skill set already includes cognitive behavioural therapy, first aid, CPR, and societal self-care and suicide prevention.

Somewhere in between, she’s collaborating with fitness brands, hanging out with her grandkids when in the same country, travelling, and just... living life on her own terms. “Women, especially, have a habit of putting everyone else first. But from my own experience, I realised early on that your happiness has to come first. When you do what you love, the people who truly care about you will eventually support you. Prioritising your physical and mental well-being isn’t a luxury—it’s a necessity. So yeah, I’ll keep running, climbing, dancing and ice-bathing for as long as my body lets me. And maybe even after that.”