Posted: 4th October 2026
If you've noticed your mum or dad taking longer to get out of a chair, getting more tired on a walk, or seeming less sure of themselves than they used to be, you've probably asked yourself a question you haven't said out loud: is this the start of them losing their independence?
That worry is common, and of course it comes from a place of love. I'd like to offer another way of looking at it.
What I saw in class
Recently, a woman in her 80s came to one of my classes. Some of the basic movements were hard for her, and she tired quickly. It would have been easy to decide that this was simply age, and that her body had had enough.
I saw something different. I saw someone who needed a different starting point. A class pitched at the average participant wasn't built for her, and that's very different from her not being able to move well. (I've kept this to age and general experience only, so she isn't identifiable.)
Struggling doesn't mean "done"
When movement becomes rare, even simple things start to feel big. Getting up from a chair, climbing stairs or carrying a bag all ask something of the body, and if the body hasn't been asked for a while, it will tell you that it's hard. That's a message about where to begin. It isn't a verdict on what's possible.
Research supports this. Strength and function can improve with appropriately progressed training well into later life, including in people in their 80s and 90s. That doesn't mean movement can prevent every change that comes with age, and it certainly doesn't mean anyone is at fault if they've found things harder. Bodies, health, circumstances and opportunities are all different.
But it does mean that "I find this hard" is a long way from "I should stop."
What older adults often need
In my experience, three things make the biggest difference.
The first is a starting point that fits. Rather than expecting someone to keep up with a general class, we begin with what they can do now, even if that's a few sit-to-stands from a chair or some gentle work on balance.
The second is more individual support. Someone watching, adjusting, offering a different option and noticing when a rest is needed makes movement feel safe, and people who feel safe are far more likely to keep going.
The third is gradual progression. Small steps, repeated, build strength and confidence together. Confidence matters just as much as muscle, because people who trust their bodies tend to do more of the things they love.
Why this matters for everyday life
This isn't about fitness for its own sake. It's about getting out of a chair without a struggle, carrying the shopping in, walking with confidence, managing a trip away, and keeping up with the family. These are the things independence is made of, and movement can help people hold on to them for longer.
Getting older is inevitable. Getting weaker isn't something we have to accept as part of the deal.
How to help without taking over
If you're an adult child wondering where to start, a few gentle ideas may help.
Ask your parent what they'd most like to keep doing, rather than what you think they should stop. Their answer is the best place to begin. If they've noticed changes in strength, balance or energy, or you're concerned, suggest a conversation with their GP, who can check for anything that needs attention. And look for someone who will start where your parent is, not where a timetable says they should be, whether that's a one-to-one session, a small class or support at home.
Try to avoid framing it as a problem to fix. People tend to respond better to being supported than to being managed.
Want to talk it through?
If you're not sure what would suit your mum or dad, I'm always happy to chat. You can get in touch through the contact page, and we'll work out a sensible first step together.