STUMBLING ON FITNESS
I stumbled on my way to the gym today.
Literally. Like on the curb because I was staring up at the beautiful, blue skies with not a single cloud in sight, not one and I said a silent prayer to God to thank Him for sending us this beautiful day not that I am not thankful for rainy days as well. (I mean balance and all those good things) but let’s be honest when you’re face is soaked with tears sometimes the added wetness of rain drops just becomes excessively soggy.
So as I am praying this beautiful prayer, and obviously I am looking up because where else would God be? Up there of course and then here I am not “up” but rather I’m “down”. On the ground. So elegant and ladylike of me. All the years of adding muscle and practicing stability in the gym has clearly not paid off.
But really I stumbled in the sense of almost not making it to the gym at all.
What did I figuratively stumble and trip over you ask?
Insecurity. Doubt. Imposter syndrome. Should I keep going?
If you feel like a total imposter the second you lace up your trainers, welcome to the club! We have jackets (and by jackets, I mean hoodies we wear to hide the fact that we’re breathing like a Frenchie after one flight of stairs).
Have you heard the Myth of the "Perfect" Gym Human?
You see those people who look like they were carved out of marble, gliding effortlessly on the treadmill? Yeah. That’s me. Well at least 1% of the time. When I am training and prepping for my next bodybuilding show. But newsflash: I’ve got insecurities too! 99% of the time I’m worried about how my scrunch butt leggings fit or wondering if anyone noticed that weird sound I made on the hip thrust machine.
Then there’s the motivation slump. You’re a fitness god for two weeks, and then... the couch happens. A “rest day" turns into a “rest month" where your only cardio is running to the door for your Uber eats delivery.
We’ve all been there. One minute you’re meal-prepping chicken breasts that taste like damp drywall, and the next, you’re three layers deep into a family-sized bag of Nacho Cheese Doritos wondering if "orange finger dust" counts as a vegetable.
And that is okay.
Stumbling isn't failing; it’s just a clumsy part of the dance.
Falling off the wagon doesn’t mean the wagon is gone—it’s parked right where you left it, waiting for you to hop back on (even if you’re a little dusty).
And falling off the wagon doesn’t just mean you tripped; it means you fell off. Okay, maybe the wagon rolled over your foot, and maybe it drove away to join a circus you weren't invited to.
But here is the good news: The wagon is currently parked at the bottom of the hill waiting for you. It’s not judging you. It’s actually quite used to this.
Getting back to fitness doesn't require a 15 kilometer run or a wrestling match with a barbell. When the “fitness wagon" is out of sight, do not panic.
Start small:
Your muscles remember the gym; they’re just currently ghosting you because you haven't called in a week.
One meal isn't a funeral: You don't throw your phone off a bridge just because you dropped it once. Don't throw away your progress because of one “oopsie" take away order.
Spite is a great motivator: Go back to the gym just to prove to the world that you haven’t actually fused with your sofa. Yet.
Dust off the leggings. Lace up your trainers. Hydrate until your skin glows. (Or sweats.)
Wagons ho!
