Why I Exercise… Alone

29 years of showing up for myself

In 1997, at the age of 16, I dropped out of high school and got my first retail job working customer service and gift wrapping at Macy’s. My mother told me I needed to do two things: volunteer work and join a gym. I ended up volunteering for various organizations for the blind and visually impaired for over 20 years, all the way until COVID. And the gym? That stuck for 29 years…. and counting. It is probably the one thing I’m most grateful for in my unconventional upbringing: service to community, service to self.

But people who know me well know how much I actually hate working out. I’ve always equated it to one of those mundane things you just gotta do every day, like brushing your teeth. You don’t love it. You just do it.

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I spent my 20s as a young mom of two, knew nothing about nutrition, and stuffed my face with Wendy’s, Popeye’s, and McDonald’s while gulping down Coke and 7-Eleven slurpees. Food was always my love. I gained a whopping 82 lbs with my first pregnancy — eating whole cakes, a loaf of bread, an entire pizza, a half dozen glazed donuts, you name it. My friends and family can attest — I’ve always had an insatiable appetite, for food, for life. And as they say in Texas — go big or go home.

I was also a chain smoker. I went from Marlboro Reds to Capris to Newports before eventually elevating to Nat Shermans, a premium cigarette that looked like a cigarillo. And any ex-smoker can tell you, smoking wouldn’t be the same without drinking — Mike’s Hard Lemonade and Peppermint Schnapps being my adult beverage of choice. Between the food, the smoking, and the drinking, it all just seemed to melt the stress of life away. And despite every last one of these bad choices, and the bad shape my body and my skin were in, I still had that gym membership.

I still worked out. I still worked out alone.

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In my 30s, I slowed down with the smoking, eventually switching to vaping — which is what ultimately helped me kick both habits for good. I was still piecing together multiple jobs, freelance gigs, and side hustles until I realized I needed one stable income with security and good benefits. So I put myself through the police academy and became a cop.

That era put me in the best shape of my life. I started thinking of food as fuel rather than just comfort. I became more aware of things like protein and staying hydrated. I began feelin myself a little too much — admiring my tiny snatched waist, a little six-pack emerging. I thought I was hot sh*t. And maybe I was deserving of a moment after years of exhaustion and personal challenges. And yes, through all of it….

I still worked out. Still worked out alone.

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Much of my 40s has been the same rinse and repeat.

But then 2025 hit. Right from the jump, it was an awful year. Numerous personal and professional disappointments. I did the unthinkable during a time when the economy is in shambles — I quit my stable career and moved to Canada. During the move, my movers got into a catastrophic wreck that destroyed the majority of my personal belongings. Part of me felt like the universe was punishing me for making such a spontaneous change. But I needed a change. A chance to reset. And through all the heartbreak of losing the possessions that were near and dear to me….

I still worked out. Still worked out alone.

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I’m 45 now. I’ve traded driving the Texas highways for the downtown walkability of Montreal. I probably walk more than I ever have. But the math is different. These workouts aren’t as effective as before. There’s a stubborn, perimenopausal little belly that wasn’t there a few months ago. My clothes fit tighter. The body is doing what it wants regardless of what I tell it.

But here’s what I do know. While some people find their motivation through group fitness classes or a personal trainer, I’ve always looked at my workouts as the one part of my day where it’s me vs me. I have to be the one to show up for myself. I have to be the one to motivate myself on days when I dread going. I have to be the one to prioritize my own health. I have to be the one to save myself.

Nobody else is coming to do that for me. Nobody ever was.

So I still show up. Because health is wealth — the vanity era is over. This is the longevity era. It's about showing up for yourself so that the second half of life can be just as full as the first. So I can keep moving, keep exploring, keep living on my own terms. That's the real flex now.