Fitness, Food and Family: A Complex Relationship

Shortly after my father died, probably in response to some deep and unacknowledged fear that if I didn’t buck my ideas up I’d be next, I joined a gym. After all, he was a fit man, still walking for an hour on the beach every day at 80. Everyone said he looked nearer 65, and he did; his striking shock of pure white hair the only visual clue to the truth. He had always loved exercise, sailing, swimming, cycling; he even took up skiing at 62. For me on the other hand, exercise has never really appealed. I can (and have) done all the above. By exercise, I mean the daily ritual of keeping oneself in shape. “In shape”, there’s a phrase. What do we mean by “in shape”? I heard on the radio this morn

We acknowledge the past, present and emerging traditional owners of the land on which we live and work, the Wadjuk people of the Noongar nation and acknowledge that sovereignty was never ceded.

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© 2020 by Curtin Writers Club