This is my Dad. He's 64. A former Tri-Athlete and Marathon Runner, he was also a swimmer and diver for Chapel Hill. He still runs on a daily basis, and started eating meat again a few years ago. So as his 37 year old daughter, I feel a bit lame if I don't run because I'm "tired."
He started bringing my siblings and I to the health food store back in the late '70's, it was a tiny store with creaky wooden floors, and we picked out carob chip candy bars and cookies at the end of each excursion. He stir fried our veggies, tossed tofu into milk shakes, and made salads large enough to serve six as a snack. I learned that eating healthy was just a way of life.
We took hikes in the nature preserve year round (my brother fell through some ice in a creek one winter, that was scary), swam in the lake in Maine and the beach in North Carolina, played tennis and rode our bikes everywhere we could. We never sat around, there was always something to do to burn off energy.
My parents have been divorced for over 30 years, and my Dad has had some ups and downs in his life. We had a few rocky years, but they were finally healed when Luke was born. He always asks about my races, and sends me running or food articles that he thinks I'd like. He knows the newest gadgets, on his last visit he brought this stick that he uses to massage his calf muscles.
Now that I'm the parent, I love how my kids like to share my smoothies, pop edamame in their mouths, and ask me how my exercise was. I'm already leading by example, because I myself have a wonderful teacher.