Telluride Times, Thursday, January 8, 2026
At some point in his life, my father — or Lt. Colonel Dad, as I am calling him now — decided it was “unladylike” to do sports. So, right about the time it mattered most to my body, my brain, and my hormones — and under added pressure to perform academically — I was given the no-go for volleyball, field hockey, basketball, softball, or anything else. I can’t remember his take on cheerleading, but it really wasn’t a possibility, as far as I was concerned.
What I wanted was to run track and dip my big toe into team sports. My very best friend (at our girls’ school) did every sport offered and excelled at all of them. My parents loved her, but it wasn’t enough to soften Colonel Dad’s views. I believe I was told, at some point, that tennis would be okay, but there were no tennis programs I knew about anywhere. So.
Eventually I started jogging, casually, after school, unaffiliated with any team or goal, just to keep myself sane — or maybe to keep myself from going insane. I would run down to Seattle’s Lake Washington and along the boulevard, then back up a big hill in the light-but-heavy trot of an out-of-shape nerd, in the obligatory Adidas or Nikes of the 70s. In a zombie-meets-Forrest-Gump mode, I believe my mind-body intelligence, along with all my guardian angels, was simply hailing me with a message: do whatever it takes to get your body moving, sister. Do it now.
After more running, then swimming and fencing (badly), and then skiing, mountain biking, yoga, and Pilates — in the intervening 50 years, in other words — I’m hearing the same message again, for a whole new set of compelling reasons. Keep on moving, lady. No joke.
Keep on walking, stretching, strengthening, and learning new ways to move if some have fallen by the wayside due to injury or overuse. Use workarounds with good cheer. Be gentle. Be strong. It’s coming in loud and clear at the end of 2025, now more than ever, to do something new, or do something old, but do something every day.
So instead of writing the column I was going to write, I’m going to say first and foremost that movement, for me, is the anti-venom to the poison of a chair- and screen-oriented society. I may be preaching to the choir here, but if even one person hears this who is meant to move more in 2026 — for the brain, body, and heart — so be it. Even if it’s just flailing the arms, shaking (it’s a thing), or chair yoga.
Because whether we’re talking about a child, a pre-teen, teenager, adult, or senior, every age group is prone to screens now, and good movement habits are more important than ever. Probably the best thing you can do for yourself and for those around you. Movement just attends to so many health functions in addition to the musculoskeletal: neurological and cognitive health; emotional regulation and hormone balance; cardiovascular, digestive, and lymphatic support; immune resilience; and metabolic health. Movement is a longevity drug — widely available, low-cost, and proven effective when practiced over time.
What’s often overlooked is that movement doesn’t have to look like exercise to “count.” Walking up steps. Walking the dog. Yardwork. Stretching on the floor while waiting for coffee to brew. Small, ordinary movements accumulate quietly but reinforce balance, coordination, and confidence. They remind the nervous system that the body is adaptable and still very much alive.
If you’re like me and enjoy trying new things, consider adding variety without overthinking it. Resistance bands. Jump-roping. Rebounding on a mini-trampoline. Dancing in the kitchen. Short Qi Gong sequences. Gentle plyometrics, if appropriate. That new nine-move sequence you see everywhere (yes, on a screen). Even vibration platforms can add interest for some of us. Small doses count and consistency matters as much as variety. And, of course, don’t do anything that doesn’t feel right.
When I think about my father — a gifted football and tennis player who somehow missed the universality of movement — I return to my childhood yearning to be a crossing guard (which, you guessed it, I was not given permission to do). To stand in the street, raise a flag, and help people make it to the other side.
What I’m doing now is sort of the same, right? Holding up a sign that says, Cross. Move one step or trot or leap at a time into a heart-pumping and brain-oxygenated 2026.
Michelle Curry Wright 