Being fit was always a part of who I am, right from childhood. I was lucky to have an outdoorsy father and the chance to play with my brothers in our garden and in the woods. There was no focus on what we ate. We just ate. We played. We ate some more. It was simpler than it feels now. But, I digress. To move from a fitter childhood into a fitter adulthood is easier than adapting good habits you never had. It can feel as if you are being asked to reinvent the wheel and then not being given credit for what a genius achievement that was in the first place. I can only imagine the challenge of being fit for those raised on poor quality nutrition and limited access to outdoor play. Life became so sedentary and indoorsy. However, when I have been out of shape, what got me back in shape was making small changes at a time and evolving my habits slowly rather than expecting to do it all at once. One small change. Live a month or two that way. When you are comfortable, make another small change. It takes longer, but in my experience it works and the results last - no yoyo effect.
Come the late afternoon they took over the kitchen, cooking together and laughing. It was how that fraternal bond was forged and how it grew all the stronger with each passing day.
They were my brothers, for better or worse. That bond is a sort of union of souls, a feeling that to lose the other would be worse than death. They were the ones who carried my soul beneath the gruffness and often crude humour. Whatever came, we knew we'd be there for one another. That reliability, that trust, it built us and sustained us. I was their sister and that note of chivalry was always there, hiding under the ambivalence they preferred to project, yet ready to protect. Brothers, eh?
When I walk in Joseph is juggling apples. Of course they aren't all the same, he's picked one of every colour in the store. This is how he relaxes, loosing himself in the moment, watching the apples arc through the air and back to his hands. Not long ago he dropped them all the time, but in recent years they sail through the air with no chance of ever getting a bruise. Sometimes I walk by and just swipe one out of the air - just to her him cry in mock protest. Other times I sneak up behind him and shout real loud to shock him, make him drop the lot, but that rarely works anymore. So instead I just fetch an orange and add it in – then I sit back with a coffee and watch him. He works that bit harder to keep them all in the air until he can aim the new addition at my head. He got me a few times, but I'm getting better at dodging.
Dan stood back, hands in pockets but somewhat slack mouthed. Ryan had replaced the motor on his old speed boat instead of getting a whole new boat like he'd told him to. It was like strapping the space shuttle jets to a rickshaw. Sure they'd go mighty fast but how long before that old hull gave out? You could probably make a fair dent in the rusted sides with a popsicle stick. From behind came jaunty, bouncing footsteps. Dan sucked in his breath, considering his options. This vessel had gone from being an unseaworthy shell to a death trap. Now he had to stand up to Ryan, his older brother, that always went down like a cup of cold sick.
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