This is something I’ve suspected for awhile, but only really admitted to myself recently and seriously, it’s a little tragic! And no, he was not a teenage father! Today is his birthday – Happy Birthday Dad – and although it is not a significant one, he recently passed a milestone. He is currently trying to convince me that counting backwards is the new hip thing.
He is a fit and dedicated man. His weekly fitness regime includes 3 visits to the gym, walks, cycles and golf (lots of it). I mean LOTS of golf, and both national and international competitions to keep the handicap very low – 3 or is it 2 now? And he eats well, although he does have a sweet tooth. Wish he’d passed on the exercise, rather than the sweet tooth gene to me. Thanks Dad!
The only reason I am happy that he lives thousands of miles away in the English countryside, is that I don’t have to openly demonstrate the fitness void between us. And really, I’m not unfit – I do Pilates once a week, walk 4 times a week and… hmmm… eat reasonably well. But I am blessed with being tall – thanks Dad (I mean it this time) so overindulgence is more easily distributed and hidden. But apparently from the age of 40, we women put on a kilogram a year. So I really do need to up the exercise regime.
I really am grateful that he takes his health seriously, because it has not been without its setbacks. He is already young at heart and his wonderful partner of nearly 20 years, Susan, inspires him to keep young in body too. And that is fabulous for me, my brother and sister, and for his 4 gorgeous grandchildren.
With my girls
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