Fitness Journey in my 20s vs 40s

Wanna know what I was doing in my 20s?

I was rolling around on wood floors in my living room turned yoga studio, trying to find my way back to my body after a traumatic brain injury.

Most of my Yoga practice was lying on my back in various twists, trying to relax my way out of pain. I learned to master the art of doing hard exercises from the floor.

I tried to do kickboxing, treadmill running, African dance, racketball, swimming, hiking, all kinds of things.

I should note that in my twenties, I lived in Boulder, CO, which is a hot spot for healthy people looking for ways to stay fit and make it look fun.

Something about the small mountain town had me feeling differently about fitness.

Fitness as a Lifestyle

Being fit was a lifestyle, not what it was in Vegas. In Vegas I’d always be the girl with thick thighs and a big booty who’d never fit into jeans at 5-7-9 not even in middle school. I’d be the girl who watches my best friend, who was much skinnier than I, doing sit-ups on the floor, telling me how good it was for me to exercise while I lay there criticizing her and eating my chips.

“Fuck that life.” To me, any woman exercising also has an eating disorder and probably hates herself, and I didn’t want that life.

That was my motto in Vegas.

I loved my cellulite. I loved my body. I loved being nude. I had no shame. My parents were body positive. I never had any reason to believe I wasn’t beautiful.

That changed when my boyfriend in college asked me to jump for 2 minutes.

I lasted about 30 seconds, tops, and was out of breath and over it.

I felt embarrassed and made it my mission to show him and myself just how fit I could be. Especially when his sister asked him if he really wanted to be with someone like me, who wasn’t athletic.

Fuck that, I could be athletic.

I leaned into the fit, healthy mountain vibes around me.

I kept doing yoga and dancing in my living room, moving my body however I wanted to. I went to regular yoga and dance classes because I was determined to be a teacher one day and know as much as I could.

I love my body

All of this to say, 20 years later, I find myself in my garage lying on my back with my legs kicked into the air, feeling grateful for all the work I put in over the past two decades.

I still love my thick thighs and cellulite.
I love my belly that birthed two children.
I love the injuries that have forced me to slow down.
I love that everything I learned from dancing bachata, salsa, and Lindy hop swing is still in my body waiting to come out and play now that my feet are better.

My point is, a little movement every day adds up to a lot in the long run. Start anywhere, one day at a time. Your future self will thank you.