When I started lifting weights I was 80 pounds and had 20% body fat. (I’m only 5′) I couldn’t curl 5 pounds without nearly bursting a blood vessel. Like a convict taking his final steps on his way to the electric chair, I dreaded my morning trips to the gym. Nevertheless, five days a week I untangled myself from the sheets of my warm bed and ventured out into the brisk winter cold at 6am.
Almost two years later I can genuinely say I’m proud of how far I’ve come. I’ve cut back the routine to about 3 times a week. On days when I can’t make it to the gym because of all my chores I’ll usually create a mental obstacle course. If I’m sweeping the floors I make sure to jog up and down the steps or move fast enough to get my heart pumping sometimes curling a bottle of Windex in one hand. That way I can burn calories while cleaning the house. Or I’ll do push ups and sit ups in between chores.
I’m far from where I’d like to be and I have a severe weakness for Snickers bars that sometimes set me back but I always try to remind myself that you got to keep on keeping on. No matter how hard you fall you got to just get back on that horse and keep ridding.
I am now a proud 95 pounds with 15% body fat. I can curl 20 pounds on a very good day. (so not most days) But most importantly I’m healthy and strong. As a woman having muscles is so empowering because you can open your own doors and lift things for yourself.
All in all the best benefit I’ve received from this is independence.