I am six years younger than Thorn and there are days where it takes an effort just to roll out of bed for a hot shower, breakfast on the couch, and straightforward drive to work.
Yet for 22 straight years, this workhorse would pop straight out of the sack, throw on his latest pair of training shoes (my gosh, how many must he have gone through?) and hit the pavement, swimming pool, or weight room for the never-ending preparations of his latest sporting campaign.
It was all to get ready for another intense 80 minute battle, a cauldron he has willingly entered 456 times and counting.
Having been through the Super League war during the late 1990s - five of his eight tests for the 'Kangaroos' were for the unrecognised SL team - then coming back to the land of his birth in 2001 for a chance at an All Black jersey, it is consigned to history now that many of the old establishment did not like the idea of this nomad mercenary. A code-hopper.
Thorn broke down that stereotype with the same intensity as he cleared out the breakdown on the field, again I quote the Spartans from Warrior Philosophers.
"The heart of each Spartan fused into a unity of culture and society where equality and community reigned supreme."
The 1.96m lock never just showed up and took the pay cheque - he showed up and tried to make his club better, and his teammates swore by him for it.
He led by example from the front foot at training, inspiring or suitably browbeating kids half his age into seeing there was always a little more they could do, always more effort they could give.
It was not until last year - four entire seasons after helping a grateful nation finally reclaim the William Webb Ellis trophy in his 59th test - when Thorn finally showed a chink in the armour, as a bicep injury curtailed his second season with the Highlanders.
Having given Hall of Fame careers to both Brisbane league (200 games in two stints) and Canterbury rugby (92 Crusader caps, 30 NPC), Thorn's dream of playing well at age 40 saw him spread his brand worldwide with Japan's Sanix Blues and Ireland's Heineken Cup winners Leinster.
Despite an ignominious end with the Highlanders, the old gun slinger knew there was always a corner of the globe to ply his trade, and so off to England's Leicester Tigers to reach, what he described this week, as "mission accomplished".
And even after a lifetime of blood, sweat and tears, of travel and training time which when added together would add up to an entire decade, the battered warrior is still up for more.
"I only said I would retire professionally," he told the British press.
"I will always have a pair of boots and a mouth-guard in my car. I will always be up for a game somewhere and I will always train, too.
"I love my sport and will stay fit. I love the gym. I hope I can stay fit for the rest of my life."
He has promised his three sons he will jog out alongside them for a game one day and I think there's a few Golden Oldies players who will be feeling a bit nervous ahead of their next tournament.
A warrior is never out of the fight.
On a week of reflection for a playing great's retirement, I would like to take the time to acknowledge the sadder news of two sporting icons passing away in the last few days.
Steve Rickard, 85, put amateur and professional wrestling on the map in this country, running the On the Mat television show for nearly a decade on New Zealand television in the late 1970s and early 1980s, the exposure from which led Rickard to be able to promote wrestling in 135 New Zealand towns.
And it was while I was writing this piece the news came through of the death of Richie Benaud, 84, the great Australian leg spin bowler and captain, who became a commentary icon with Channel 9 and the BBC.
Known for his quick wit and astute analysis, which was lovingly lampooned by comedian Billy Birmingham in the widely popular 12th Man album series, Benaud provided the soundtrack for a generation of cricket fans.
