Move With Care — Carers Week 2026

This Carers Week, I'm writing three pieces about movement — one for the person receiving care, one for the person doing the caring, and one for both. This is 1. You can find the others on my blog.

Part 1 of 3: For the person receiving care

This One's For You — Not Your Carer. You.

There's a moment some people describe — maybe you've had it yourself — when movement quietly stops feeling like something that belongs to them.

Perhaps it was a diagnosis. Perhaps it was the gradual realisation that some daily tasks now need a hand. Perhaps a well-meaning doctor said "take it easy" and somehow, over time, that became the instruction for all of it. Or perhaps nobody said anything directly — but the message landed anyway: that your job now is to rest. To let others do. To not push your luck.

If that sounds familiar, I want to sit with you here for a moment — and then gently, clearly, offer a different view.

Movement is still yours. It was designed for your body. Your body is still asking for it. And it will respond to it, no matter when you start, or restart, or begin for the very first time.

What the research actually says

The World Health Organisation's Physical Activity Guidelines are clear: regular movement is beneficial for all adults, including those living with long-term health conditions or reduced mobility. The evidence doesn't make exceptions for age, diagnosis, or starting point — because the benefits don't either.

What movement does for the body is well established. It helps preserve muscle mass, which naturally decreases with age — a process called sarcopenia that begins earlier than most people realise and accelerates without resistance. It supports bone density, balance, and cardiovascular health. It helps regulate blood sugar, mood, and sleep. And perhaps most importantly for anyone navigating a caring relationship: it supports a sense of agency. The feeling that your body is still doing things, not just having things done to it.

Here's what the evidence also consistently shows: the risks of remaining inactive are, for the vast majority of people, significantly greater than the risks of carefully chosen, appropriately paced movement. That's not me being breezy about pain or limitation — it's the clinical reality.

And if you've been told "you should move more" by a GP or physio but nobody told you how — keep reading.

What movement might actually look like for you

This is where I want to push back against the idea that movement has a minimum standard to be worth doing.

It doesn't.

Getting up from a chair ten times in a row is movement.
Walking to the window and back is movement.
Sitting in your chair and slowly circling your ankles, rolling your shoulders, reaching both arms overhead — movement.
One song on the radio, moving to it however you can — movement.
All of it counts. All of it does something.

The body doesn't grade your effort against what you used to be able to do, or against what someone else can do. It responds to whatever you give it, from wherever you are now.

In my work as an exercise referral instructor specialising in long-term conditions and healthy ageing, I have yet to meet a person who had absolutely no movement options. The starting point might be very gentle, very brief, very different from what they imagined — but there is always an entry point. Always. And from that entry point, more becomes possible.

Some questions I hear often — answered honestly

"But won't it make things worse?" Pain is always worth listening to — it's a signal, not something to push through. But stiffness, mild discomfort that eases as you move, and the feeling of effort are not pain. Many people living with arthritis, chronic pain, or recovering from illness find that gentle, regular movement reduces discomfort over time rather than increasing it. If you're unsure what's appropriate for your specific situation, that's exactly the kind of conversation worth having with a specialist.

"I don't want to be a burden — what if I need modifications?" Modifications aren't a workaround. They're the design. Every movement I use with clients is chosen and adapted for the individual in front of me. There is no version of this that looks the same for everyone, and there shouldn't be.

"Is it too late to start?" The evidence says no, and so does my experience. Research consistently shows that adults can build meaningful strength, improve balance, and increase functional capacity at any age — including into their eighties and beyond. The best time to start is now. The second best time was ten years ago. Now is still good.

This Carers Week

This Carers Week, I want to gently challenge the idea that your movement options ended when life got complicated. They didn't.

You don't have to start big. You don't have to start confidently. You don't have to know exactly what you're doing before you begin. You just have to start — somewhere small, somewhere safe, somewhere that makes sense for your body and your life right now.

Your body is still asking for movement. It’s up to you to give it what it wants and needs. And if you need help with that, there are people out there only to willing to offer that help - myself included.

If you'd like to explore what movement could look like for you, feel free to get in touch. There's no pressure, no judgement, and no such thing as too late.