I contacted a personal trainer in my neighborhood on September 19, 2024.  My husband and I both hired a personal trainer about 5 years prior to that – we only had her for a few months, which may have been because of COVID.  When I contacted the one I have now on my own in 2024, I was approaching 50 and had realized I was losing strength.  I had also been gaining weight, but what really bothered me was losing strength as I entered my older years.  I was never a particularly strong person, but I had gone to the US National Whitewater Center in Charlotte for a firm team-building event that was a lot of fun, and one of the things we did was a ropes course where we had to climb up on a platform.  I was insecure about someone helping me climb up because I was uncomfortable with my weight, and then when I jumped down from the platform that’s probably about as high as my dining room table, I fell right to the ground like my legs couldn’t support me.  I think part of that was just fear…you know when you’re a kid, you can do all kinds of things because you have confidence that you won’t get hurt, and you just believe you’ll jump and land and everything will be fine, but as a 49YO jumping into the air, I felt very uncertain about landing on the ground.  And I fell, and I felt about 100YO.

I work with people of all ages, but a lot of them are in their 20s and they really prioritize fitness in a way I’m not used to.  They watch what they eat and go to the gym and frankly, I don’t get it any more than I understand why my teenaged nieces are into skin care and fancy lip masks.  I spent my youth getting sunburned and eating whatever I wanted because I was blessed with a metabolism I wish we all had, a metabolism I understand now that not everyone has, a metabolism that I also no longer have.  I guess I wore it out, because it quit working somewhere in my late 30s or in my 40s and I have watched the scale climb ever since, even while making improvements in what I eat.  For example, my breakfast for years was one or two Pop-Tarts and chocolate milk.  It’s quick, convenient, and delicious!  It has calcium!  It has real fruit filling!  My mid-morning snack was Doritos and Mountain Dew.  Energy!  People leave you alone with Doritos breath! Dinner definitely came from a box.  Now I generally (during the work-week) have a fruit/veggie smoothie and eat nuts for a snack.  I eat nuts like a damn squirrel, and I’d like to know how squirrels are so small, because apparently nuts are not a low-calorie snack.  Then again, all squirrels eat is nuts. They don’t pair them with a lovely glass (or bottle) of wine and maybe some nice cheese and a bunch of other stuff. And, they climb trees a lot. Squirrels are pretty active.

When I contacted the personal trainer, I told her weight loss wasn’t my priority – it was strength.  I kind of figured losing weight might happen naturally, but mostly, I wanted to be able to stay mobile as I aged.  And this nice young lady who does things like HYROX competitions agreed to come work out with me one day a week for half an hour each session.

I knew it wasn’t a lot.  Sometimes I’m surprised she even agreed to spend that kind of miniscule time with me.  But what I’ve learned about my trainer is that she really, REALLY believes in people.  And maybe we both knew that going in too strong too soon would lead to me telling her, “This has been a nice experiment, but it’s not for me.  I don’t really need my legs.  I’ve discovered mobile scooters!”  I think half an hour a week was very perfect to keep me around. And, I didn’t quit.  I didn’t even cancel when I had a headache, which surprised me. (I did cancel when I got the COVID and a cough that would not quit, and I think she was OK with that.)  I didn’t even particularly dread the workouts, although I wouldn’t say I loved them or became a workout junkie.  I showed up, I participated, I got through them, and I did things I couldn’t do before, like a plank, and pushups.  I regained my ability to squat without great difficulty.  She has me getting off the floor without using my hands and she makes me lift my husband’s weights as much as she has me lift my own or use resistance bands or my own body weight.  We recently increased to twice a week, and while some posts I see online still indicate that’s a pittance – that’s their life.  For me, it’s progress.  It’s also all the WFH days I have, so that might be as far as we go for a while just because of our schedules.  And, my trainer recently got me also walking pretty much every day.  She set a goal for me of walking 15 minutes and told me I could do it at home, at work, basically anywhere.  I was so annoyed when I read that message.  She doesn’t know what my days are like!  They are not all conducive to walking!  And this heat is not even healthy for being outside!  I can’t even get into the gym at work, the AC doesn’t work at the gym in my neighborhood, sometimes (lots of times) I have plans…

And then I changed my alarm clock.  I added a half hour to my day where I can walk in the early morning when the heat isn’t insufferable. (I tried to add an hour, but it’s still dark outside, and I am not trying to walk in the dark and die.)  It’s peaceful.  It’s good for my body and good for my mind.  I explore my neighborhood.  I pick up trash.  Sometimes I go later in the day.  Sometimes people walk with me, in person or by telephone.  But I think my favorite times are actually the ones when I am alone to meander with my thoughts.  And if you get me out the door for 15 minutes, unless I’ve made a terrible mistake and gone outside when it’s very hot, you’ll get me outside for at least half an hour.  And if there is a day where it just really does not fit – I don’t fret.  Because I know I’ll do it tomorrow, and I know I did it yesterday.

I did not lose weight during the first year with my trainer because I changed almost nothing about my diet, although she (and everyone else who’s ever met me) has talked to me about produce and various other things.  I had a few doctors’ appointments in May of this year and I weighed in at 190, and then I saw another doctor this month and I was at 195.  This made me angry and it scared me.  Now, all of this is relative to any individual and their own body and their own weight.  I had a friend some years ago who weighed 20 pounds more than me and looked amazing.  Someone is reading this and gasping at the horror of me weighing 195 pounds, and someone else is rolling their eyes and wishing they only weighed 195 pounds.  I am looking at 200 lbs. being my next weigh-in and possibly already having borderline HBP (kind of a long story here, but it’s being managed via migraine preventative drugs and I’m not entirely sure if I have/had blood pressure issues or if a migraine increased my BP at one specific time in my life) and definitely having borderline high cholesterol and realistically expecting things won’t get better with the path I’m on, which is my sedentary lifestyle and my steady diet and love of cheese, wine, beer, meats, and relaxation. 

So.  My gynecologist, who has been with me about as long as my husband and has been watching my weight climb, is the only physician I remember who’s addressed my weight with me. When I saw him this month, he said he wanted to put me on GLP-1s and I . . . didn’t want that.  I’m not sure why.  I’ve talked to several people about it, people who are on it and believe it’s a miracle drug – and I believe them – and people who are wary of it.  I know if my dad was alive, he would have been first in line for it, and I would have been thrilled for him.  (Side note, I 100% take after my dad physically and also in the indulgence department. I think I’ve also learned from him, though.)  I think my reluctance with GLP-1s is that I hired a trainer to be stronger, and the side effects I consistently read about are reduced muscle and reduced bone density.  So it seems counterintuitive to my goals and efforts.  I can always do it later if what I’m trying now is a bust.  The gynecologist and I compromised on me seeing a dietician, which is kind of redundant because my trainer also covers nutrition, but sure, I’ll take additional information.  The trainer and the dietitian both have apps where I track my food, with inconsistent results – for example, one seems more AI based (“Tell me what you’re eating,” and it generates a number) and the other one has a barcode scanner. Of course, if I’m eating food NOT from a box, the barcode is not an option. Sometimes it’s a lot of guesswork, seems to me, but I trust that these nutrition professionals are getting more out of it. I’m never quite sure how many calories I’m taking in even while logging them.  Just tracking food is exhausting, but also eye-opening, and a form of accountability if you’re honest about it (which I am, because anything else is pointless).  Yesterday I had 8 Skittles. So then I had to figure out how to put that into the app that doesn’t just let me enter 8 Skittles, but wants to know 8 Skittles in volume. (Internet: how much is 8 Skittles?)  Rarely can I fit wine or beer into my calorie budget, and when I was starving making dinner one night, I had a measly 2 pieces of cheese that might have been quite a few more if every one of them didn’t go into my apps.  As someone who was drinking and snacking damn near every evening, I am surprised (and relieved) how little I miss those things.  It’s not that I don’t still like them . . . I’m just doing something else now, and they don’t fit.  It’s oddly simple to me. 

That isn’t to say I don’t still make bad choices.  (See above: Skittles!)  I think it’s rare that I have a day within my calorie limit, and yesterday, Bossy Buelah’s was on Lunch Drop and I also had dinner plans with a college friend.  I know I was supposed to pick one of those or neither, but . . . I chose both.  And I had wine!  Which was fine, but also seemed kind of . . . meh.  WHO AM I?!  It’s a process.  I’m learning.  And today is a whole new day.

It comes down to me doing the things, but it also takes a village.  I couldn’t get this done without the help of my trainer and the support of people in my life, including my job giving me flexibility to work from home.  This is probably the first period in my life when this is actually accomplishable because of the prevalence of WFH, a trainer being right here in my neighborhood – the right combination of so many things.

And yet, with me finally having the things that are working for me, I’m amazed how many people balk at my path.  “OMG, a trainer is expensive.  My gym costs less.”  Cool, I’m glad that works for you!  I need this person to show up for me and tell me what to do and KEEP telling me what to do.  We still have the workout plans from our last trainer that we never, ever used after we last saw her.  I am all about relationships, human interaction, motivation, guidance, tell me about my posture.  Send me to a gym without someone coaching me basically every step of the way and I’ll never last. 

Slow and steady wins the race.  I’m not going to HYROX.  I’m going to be 100, and I’m going to still be walking on my own legs when I get there.  That’s my goal – and I feel ever more confident in that goal because of one small step I took in contacting a personal trainer and seeing what might happen.  I’m not telling you to contact a personal trainer or go to a gym or take a walk.  I’m telling you, if you need to do something, DO SOMETHING.  It may not stick.  Everything I’ve written here is not a success story.  Success was finding the right fit, which again, was a perfect storm of people and timing and opportunities, but if you’re reading this and thinking it can’t work for you because you don’t have the things you don’t have, I don’t have the things someone else has. Find what you do have and work with it. The most important thing was that I started and I didn’t quit.  When my trainer took a few months off for maternity leave, I didn’t enjoy a vacation that I knew I’d never come back from.  I asked for her help finding a temporary trainer.   When she told me to walk, I (got mad and argued with her in my head and then) I walked.   I read something somewhere about a floor: what’s your floor? The point was that I have a new floor.  My new floor was working out one day a week.  Now it’s working out 1 – 2 days a week and consistently walking.  I knew I had a new floor when my trainer went on maternity leave and I didn’t let her go.  I kind of thought my floor was my ceiling, and now I realize, I don’t know where my ceiling is.  That’s exciting. And I’m pretty damn proud of the floor I’ve built – also known as a foundation.  I’m not writing this blog from the perspective of someone who’s made it, someone who’s incredibly fit, someone who’s your inspiration with a picture of myself in a bikini.  That may never happen, and I don’t care.  Vanity isn’t my goal – not that I wouldn’t be damn proud if I had a bikini photo to add to this blog.  But my goal is thriving and not moving like I’m twice my age.  I am writing this blog because I am proud and I am grateful.  I have done things in the past year+ that I actually did not think I would or could do.  But I pursued them, and I did them.  And as much as I will downplay the amount of time I spend working out or walking and how I look and how much I weigh . . . I fucking did those things, and I am going to keep doing them. 

As my trainer says, Nike got one thing right: JUST DO IT.