There is a conversation I have often in the clinic.
Someone is dealing with an injury, persistent pain, or a condition that has slowly narrowed their life. They know that getting stronger and moving more would probably help. But they look at their schedule and ask the question that matters most:
How am I supposed to fit this in?
I understand that question from the inside.
I am 65. I run a business, see patients, write and teach, and try to contribute where I can. I am also a dad in a busy family. One child is involved in football and lacrosse, and sometimes needs help wrestling with Grade 10 math. Another plays rugby, loves D&D, and has their own full world of interests and needs. There are practices, games, rides, appointments, family responsibilities, volunteer commitments, and all the ordinary things that fill a week before you have even thought about looking after yourself.
There are plenty of days when a well-planned, hour-long workout simply is not realistic.
So I do not wait for the perfect window. I use what is available.
Sometimes that is a few minutes of Stealth Fitness before work. Sometimes I run the stairs by the Glenora Club. Sometimes it is a short run, or 50 kettlebell swings in the gym at work. None of those choices is especially impressive on its own. But they are real, repeatable, and they add up.
More importantly, they help me live the way I want to live. I have more energy. I feel better in my body. I feel more able to show up for my family, my patients, and the work that matters to me. And yes, it makes me a more genuine therapist when I suggest that a patient can find a practical way to build fitness into their own life. I am not asking anyone to follow a perfect program. I am asking them to begin where they are, with the life they actually have.
Fitness is not an optional extra
At 65, strength and power are not simply about looking fit or chasing a personal best. They are investments in capability.
Strength helps us get up from the floor, carry groceries, manage stairs, keep up with children and grandchildren, recover from setbacks, and continue doing the activities that give life texture. Power matters too. It is the ability to produce force quickly: catching yourself when you trip, getting across a street safely, climbing a hill, moving with confidence when life asks something unexpected of you.
We do not build these qualities by waiting until we have unlimited time, no soreness, no stress, and a flawless plan. We build them by giving the body regular, manageable reasons to adapt.
That idea sits at the centre of how I work with injuries and persistent pain.
Build what is strong to fix what is wrong
When something hurts, it is understandable to protect it. Short-term rest or reducing an aggravating activity can be useful. But avoiding movement for too long can quietly reduce confidence, fitness, and capacity. The things your body used to handle can begin to feel bigger and more threatening.
Active recovery is not about pushing through pain or pretending nothing is wrong. It is about finding the right starting point and building from there.
That might mean:
- changing the activity instead of stopping it altogether
- starting with a movement that feels safe and achievable
- strengthening other areas while an irritated area settles
- using symptoms as feedback to adjust the dose
- progressing gradually toward a goal that matters to you
In other words, we start with the goal, not just the diagnosis.
Do you want to return to golf, walk comfortably on a trip, get back to the gym, play with your children, run again, work a full day with more ease, or simply trust your body more? That goal gives us a direction. Then we build a plan that fits your current capacity and your real schedule.
Hands-on treatment can be part of that process. It may help reduce symptoms, improve movement, or make it easier to get started. But treatment is most useful when it supports a bigger recovery plan. Movement carries that plan forward.
The best plan is the one that fits your life
I do not believe people need to become athletes to recover well or age well. But I do believe most of us need some form of regular physical challenge. The right amount looks different for every person.
For one person, it may be a structured strength program three times a week. For another, it may begin with five minutes of walking, a few chair stands, simple shoulder exercises, or a short set of band work before dinner. A small plan completed consistently is far more valuable than an ambitious plan that never gets started.
This is why I am so interested in helping people find their own version of active recovery. Not a generic exercise sheet. Not a lecture about what they should be doing. A practical path from where they are now toward what they want their body to do.
My job is to help you understand what is limiting you, clarify the next step, and build capacity with enough support and challenge to move forward. The aim is not just less pain for an hour. It is more confidence and capability for your real life.
Because a busy life is not a reason to give up on your health. It is often the very reason to protect and build it.
If pain, an injury, or a condition has been shrinking the activities you care about, let’s start with your goal and build from there.