My 92-year-old father-in-law does 100 squats every day.

Down, up, down, up.

And he doesn’t even get tired.

My 82-year-old dad bikes all over the city with only peripheral vision. Up a hill, down a hill, up a hill, down a hill. A full day’s energy.

I look at them with wonder. I also look to them as examples.

Because I know them so well, I realize that this kind of freedom in mobility late in their life is very accessible to everyone. They don’t drink secret booster recipes every morning. They aren’t injected with miracle shots into their muscles.

The serum for free mobility started many years ago.

It’s not about fitness or athletics.

It’s about a simple way of life.

Now, I kind of misdirected you about the 100 squats a day. But not in the way you might think. What my father-in-law actually does is he sits down and gets up repeatedly without assistance or using the armrest as support.

I can already see some eyes rolling out there. Give me a minute.

Ever since my knee surgery last year, I’ve been searching for ways to strengthen my legs and facilitate my mobility. Not a temporary fix, but to avoid living with chronic discomfort. I want independence. The dignity and capacity to care for myself. Besides my efforts in a variety of fitness disciplines and body activation, I still suffered from pain and stiffness.

Then I saw my father-in-law get up from the couch without holding onto anything.

Unlike me. Ouch.

It felt like a slap in the face. A man almost forty years older than me had stronger legs than I did. Here I am, leaning on anything to alleviate my pain when he just glides up from his seat like a bird flying off a branch. Instinctively. That slap made me realize I needed a software update. Before the stroke of midnight. Before my cool jeans become permanent sweat pants.

We underestimate the power of our minds on our daily habits, especially on how we move. My knee dysfunction had taken control, and I had to gain it back in a flash.

Starting with the basics, sitting and standing without support. I was amazed at the effort it required! When it shouldn’t. I was actually weakening my muscles by succumbing to my fear of pain. It became a subconscious habit of always helping myself up from a chair, bending to feed my cat, and grabbing the peanut butter from the top shelf. This was not sustainable.

Thanks to my astute observation (I'm complimenting myself to make me feel better), I reversed the tick-tock of that physiological clock and ran that software update. To fix my bugs, patch my vulnerabilities, and improve my performance.

And, wow. The difference this one small change made has been incredible. I never realized how bad my posture had become. In very little time, my quads got stronger, and my knee pain decreased. A lot more than expected! Even my back straightened, and that look of self-confidence returned. I really did turn back my physiological clock.

And now a special shoutout to my dad.

He was diagnosed with macular degenerative disease in his thirties and was told he would be blind within a few months. The shock of that news must have been devastating to him. I remember hearing about this blow as a child. What do I do? A child doesn’t know how to react at first. But I also remember not feeling anxious about it because my dad kept steady.

It must have been so scary for him, yet I never sensed fear. With a will of steel, he kept going and adapted to a new way of life. I truly believe his iron will saved him from completely losing his eyesight.

My two dads inspired me. And inspiration is life-changing. It is a force of hope and accessibility for oneself.

They were not athletes or superheroes. They are ordinary men who go about their days regularly. With an extraordinary mindset.

We spend so much time searching for complicated answers. Experts, podcasts, fitness trends, and miracle routines explained with proofs, statistics, and words that I need to search three times before understanding them.

Yet, we forget to look at natural success stories, like those of my two dads. We forget to look to the elderly for inspiration, and we should seek them more for answers.

Meanwhile, my two dads quietly showed me the most important lesson without ever trying to teach it. It’s so simple, it’s almost silly.

A healthy life is not complicated brain surgery. It’s actually easier than pie! (Btw, I hate baking pies; I never get the crust and dough looking beautiful).

My two dads keep moving. Their minds and their bodies.

For dignity and independence as an elderly woman, I need to do the same. And continue the rhythm.

Both my dads live in different countries and have completely different routines.

What they have in common is that they walk a lot, without effort.

One takes the bus. The other drives to get groceries.

My dad loves tending to his summer vegetable garden. My other dad carefully follows every detail of his flower garden.

Their body is active throughout the day.

My dad reads the newspaper with thick glasses, a microscope, and the articles practically glued to his face. My other dad still rides through traffic every week to the business he founded, despite whatever instability Lebanon may be facing at the time.

Their mindset sets the pace.

When I look at their faces, a wise wrinkle here, a smile of tenacity there, they teach me to keep looking forward. To never surrender to obstacles.

Determined, curious, stubborn.

Age is catching up to them slowly.

But they controlled the pace.

Uphill doesn’t mean impossible. Easy will not make me stronger or fluid.

Effort will.

And I observe.

And I learn.

I’m becoming more aware of what comes naturally to both my dads. And I am taking control of myself and my body, and I am not letting the fear of pain control me. I function on my own terms now.

Today, I squat on my knees, pull myself up, twerk my bum, wave my hips, circle my waist, shimmy my shoulders,…oops! Sorry, I swayed into a dance there! I got a little ahead of myself. The point is, I’m happy! I feel so much better. I use my core, glutes, and quads for my movements without leaning on an armrest, a kitchen counter, a table, or whatever to bend, reach, or pull myself up. I have these muscles; I want to use them. And I do.

Imagine how these tiny but great changes mean to my health today and, more importantly, tomorrow.

Light, confident, active.

What came naturally to my two dads, I had to learn. Until, soon, it will become natural for me, too.