16/06/2026
๐ฏ๐ฎ ๐๐ฒ๐ฎ๐ฟ๐ ๐ฎ๐ด๐ผ, ๐ต๐ฒ ๐๐ฎ๐ถ๐ฑ, "๐'๐๐ฒ ๐ณ๐ผ๐๐ป๐ฑ ๐๐ ๐ฎ ๐ด๐๐บ ๐๐ฒ ๐ฐ๐ฎ๐ป ๐๐ฟ๐ฎ๐ถ๐ป ๐ฎ๐ ๐๐ผ๐ด๐ฒ๐๐ต๐ฒ๐ฟ." He grabbed my hand and drove me there.
We had just finished school, weren't returning to swimming squad training, and at 17 years old, we were both in great shape.
We committed to the gym training every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.
When I didn't want to go, he pushed me.
When he didn't want to go, I pushed him.
And for over five years, we never gave up on each other. ๐ช๐ป
Then life changed.
At 23, I had my first child. The weight crept on. My motivation disappeared.
Then baby #2 arrived, along with anxiety and depression.
Training became a cycle of starts and stops. Three good weeks, then four weeks of nothing. We trained at home when we could. We fell off track more times than I can count.
Then came baby #3.
But through it all, one thing never changed:
We never stopped believing we'd find our way back.
Eventually, we did.
At 9:30pm, after long days, after work, after parenting, after everything else was done, we'd meet on our back verandah and train.
Five nights a week.
Tired or not.
Motivated or not.
We showed up.
Because we had three children watching us.
Because we wanted more for ourselves.
Because we were sick and tired of being sick and tired.
Today, 32 years after that first gym session, we still train together almost every day.
Weights.
Walks.
Whatever movement looks like that day.
Life is busy with a business, responsibilities, and all the challenges that come with getting older.
But we've learned something priceless:
๐ง๐ต๐ฒ ๐ฒ๐
๐ฒ๐ฟ๐ฐ๐ถ๐๐ฒ ๐ต๐ฒ๐น๐ฝ๐ฒ๐ฑ ๐ผ๐๐ฟ ๐ฏ๐ผ๐ฑ๐ถ๐ฒ๐.
๐ง๐ต๐ฒ ๐ฑ๐ฒ๐๐ฒ๐ฟ๐บ๐ถ๐ป๐ฎ๐๐ถ๐ผ๐ป ๐๐๐ฟ๐ฒ๐ป๐ด๐๐ต๐ฒ๐ป๐ฒ๐ฑ ๐ผ๐๐ฟ ๐บ๐ถ๐ป๐ฑ๐.
๐ง๐ต๐ฒ ๐๐๐ฝ๐ฝ๐ผ๐ฟ๐ ๐๐ฒ ๐ด๐ฎ๐๐ฒ ๐ฒ๐ฎ๐ฐ๐ต ๐ผ๐๐ต๐ฒ๐ฟ ๐ฐ๐ต๐ฎ๐ป๐ด๐ฒ๐ฑ ๐ผ๐๐ฟ ๐น๐ถ๐๐ฒ๐.
The secret was never motivation.
The secret was showing up when motivation was nowhere to be found.
Thirty two years later, we're still showing up.
Together. โค๏ธ
๐๐ผ๐ป'๐ ๐ด๐ถ๐๐ฒ ๐๐ฝ ๐ผ๐ป ๐๐ผ๐๐ฟ๐๐ฒ๐น๐ณ. .
