What My Great Aunt Taught Me About Strength, Aging and Never Giving Up
- Shane Kokas

- Jan 12, 2015
- 3 min read
It started as something I did out of obligation — a few hours carved out of a busy week. But somewhere along the way, those trips became some of the most important hours of my week. Not because of the groceries. Because of her.
My great aunt is in her eighties. She had a stroke a few years back and hasn't returned fully to where she was before it. She has the conditions many people her age are managing — things that make movement slower, harder, less predictable. And she knows it.
Here's what she also knows: stopping is not an option.
She refuses to hand me a list and stay home. Every week, she gets up, gets out, and moves through that store under her own power — slowly, deliberately and with more grit than most people half her age ever show up with.
She picks up the produce.
She debates the beans.
She does the work.
Watching her, I learned more about strength training and aging than any textbook has ever taught me.
Lesson 1: Movement is medicine and you have to take it yourself.
My aunt could have decided that the stroke was the end of a certain chapter.
A lot of people do. They hand over the keys, the grocery list, the independence and slowly, the body follows.
Instead, she chose to keep going. Not perfectly. Not at full capacity. But consistently.
That choice to move, even imperfectly is the most powerful thing any of us can do as we age.
The research backs it up: regular physical activity in your 60s, 70s and 80s is one of the strongest predictors of functional independence.
But the research isn't what drives my aunt.
She drives herself.
Lesson 2: Challenge yourself — but listen to your body.
She knows when to push and when to rest. There's no ego in it. On a hard day, she slows down. On a good day, she goes a little further. That calibration — learning the difference between discomfort worth leaning into and pain worth respecting — is something I work on with every client I train in Edmonton.
Most people in their 50s and 60s come to me having ignored that dial their whole lives. Either they pushed through everything and got hurt, or they backed off from everything and lost capacity. The goal is the middle: progressive, sustainable effort that builds you up instead of breaking you down.
Lesson 3: Your brain needs the workout too.
She's not just showing up for her legs. She's showing up for her mind.
The navigation, the decisions, the conversation, the engagement with the world — it all matters.
We know now that physical and cognitive health are deeply intertwined.
Staying active isn't just about keeping your body functional.
It's about keeping yourself present, sharp, and engaged in your own life.
Lesson 4: Stubbornness, used correctly, is a superpower.
My great aunt is not compliant in the way people expect eighty-year-olds to be.
She doesn't accept limitations handed to her without testing them first.
That refusal, that quiet, consistent refusal to just coast is something I've tried to carry into how I coach.
I don't train people to accept where they are. I train them to find out what's still possible.
Lesson 5: The people paying attention are learning.
I started those grocery trips thinking I was doing her a favour.
I was wrong. She was doing one for me.
Every session I've spent with a client in their 60s or 70s who's navigating real health challenges — neuropathy, joint replacement, post-surgery recovery has made me a better trainer. Not because I learned more exercises. Because I learned more about what strength actually looks like.
It doesn't look like a rack full of heavy weights.
Sometimes it looks like making it to the produce section under your own power on a Tuesday morning.
If you're in your 50s, 60s or 70s and wondering whether it's too late to start or whether it's worth continuing after a setback, I'd ask you to think about my great aunt.
Not as an exception. As an example of what's available to most of us, if we're willing to keep showing up.
That's the work I do every day with clients across Edmonton.
If you're ready to find out what's still ahead of you, I'd love to have that conversation.





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