In my younger years—those wild teens and energetic twenties—exercise was merely a means to fit into my favorite outfits. I was an average runner, not particularly fast, and, to be honest, I didn’t enjoy it much. It was just an efficient way to burn some calories.
Fast forward to my thirties, where I became a mom of three. My workouts were squeezed in between pregnancies, with me racing to prove that I was still in shape. Spoiler alert: I was and I wasn’t. Just when I felt somewhat fit, I’d be expecting again. My motivation for exercise evolved; it was no longer just about fitting into my clothes. My closet was now a wardrobe of sizes—skinny jeans, winter pants, maternity options, and those oh-so-comfy postpartum leggings. There was always something that fit!
What truly changed was my outlook on running—I began to actually look forward to it. The demands of motherhood took a toll on my energy and spirit. The constant hustle of being “on” made me long for moments of solitude. So, I took to running for a breather, and those 30 minutes outside dramatically lifted my mood. My husband even recognized when I was stressed and would suggest, “Why don’t you go for a run?”
Now that I’ve hit the big 4-0, running is hardly part of my routine anymore. So, what happened? Well, my kids are older and in school, so I no longer feel that urge to escape. My joints have become creakier, and I’ve started to worry about the long-term effects of all those miles I logged over the years. Plus, I found myself working out alongside the silver-haired crew at the gym.
When I joined a local gym for the childcare, I ended up sharing the indoor track with retirees. I felt pretty spry zipping past those power walkers until reality hit. After two C-sections, I discovered that I could barely manage a sit-up. It turned out that my running routine wasn’t addressing the core issues from my surgeries.
That’s when I turned to Pilates, focusing on core strength, flexibility, and balance. The classes were filled with an inspiring group of older adults who were surprisingly stronger and more agile than I was. While I struggled through warm-up exercises, they seemed unfazed. It dawned on me: I was headed toward aging, and I could either cling to my past fitness habits or learn from these active seniors.
I can’t turn back time, and I don’t want to become a 65-year-old who struggles with stairs or an 85-year-old who has trouble keeping her balance. Right now, I aim to be a fit 40-year-old. I might not run another marathon (or any race, for that matter), but that doesn’t mean I’m giving up. Instead, I’m embracing a new fitness journey that fits my body’s needs. My creaky joints prefer Pilates, biking, walking, and, recently, even skiing and surfing—who knows what’s next? As long as I’m moving forward, I’m happy.
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In summary, as I navigate my fitness journey at 40, I’m learning to adapt and embrace new ways to stay active and fit, inspired by those older than me who seem to defy age.