Truth

I haven't been in a formal gym since October 2019.

Before that, I was an avid gym girlie—Lifetime, Pilates studios, personal training, Orange Theory, kickboxing, yoga. All of it. I might have been obsessed. Movement was community, variety, intensity, and identity.

Then a 5K injury + a walking boot changed everything. I bought a Peloton to rehab, fell in love, and shortly after, COVID shut the gym world down entirely.

I invested heavily in a beautiful basement gym—heavy bag, Pilates reformer, light and heavy weights, TRX, Peloton. When I moved to Ohio, I recreated it in my loft. Training became private, intentional, and deeply mine.

Now, with the first phase of my move to Arizona, that old setup doesn't fit this "season". So I’ve gone back to a formal gym.

What I've noticed surprised me.

I'm quieter.

I don't want to talk to anyone.

Headphones on. Eyes forward. Get the work done solo.

I miss my reformer (and I'll happily have one again when I land somewhere permanent), but otherwise I appreciate the mix of equipment and access to heavier weights.

What hasn’t changed, and never will, is this truth:

It’s always on me.

My drive.

My consistency.

My willingness to show up even when motivation is low.

Genetics gave me great skin tone and dark eyes, but they also came with thyroid issues, diabetes, hormonal challenges, and a metabolism that doesn't love me back. Maintaining my size takes effort. Reaching my preferred size takes even more. And it's something I can easily vacillate from if I'm not paying attention.

This isn't a complaint—it's honesty.

Every season of movement has looked different for me. Public. Private. Community-driven. Solo. High energy. Quiet discipline.

And I think that's the point.

You don't lose yourself when your routine changes.

You evolve.

You adapt.

You keep choosing yourself, just differently.

And sometimes, that looks like headphones on… doing the work quietly.