There’s something nobody tells you about staying fit through the decades. It’s not really about the exercise at all. It’s about who you become when you’re not looking, and who you choose to be when you finally open your eyes.
Let me take you back to the beginning.
I’ve spent over forty years flirting with fitness, commitment, and the woman staring back at me in the mirror. Sometimes I loved her. Sometimes I avoided her completely. But she was always there, full of energy and strength, patiently waiting for me to figure out what truly mattered.
Looking back now, I can see that my fitness journey was never just about movement, but about who I became at each stage of my life.
Where It Started: When Working Out Was Simply A Play
When I was little, my mum had dreams of raising a ballerina. She dressed me in the outfit, took me to lessons, and watched hopefully from the sidelines. But I was never that graceful creature she imagined. I was more windbag than swan, more interested in playing Cowboys and Indians with the neighbourhood kids than perfecting pliés.
Movement wasn’t “discipline” back then. It was just what kids did.
Secondary school brought dodgeball, volleyball, and later basketball, where I played for the school team. But my real love was dancing. For five years, I danced with the modern stage group “Tremolo.” It was my passion, my workout, and a big part of my lifestyle. I felt alive when I moved, with energy and strength that came from simply loving what I was doing. My body was speaking a language my mouth couldn’t find.
And then, of course, I met a guy. You know the story. The slow fade. The quiet trade of your passion for someone else’s comfort. I’d seen it happen to others. I was sure it wouldn’t happen to me. But life has a sense of humour.
The Years That Blur Together
I got married at twenty-one. Had my first son at twenty-two and my second three years later. Suddenly, my days weren’t mine anymore. They belonged to toddlers with endless energy, a flat that always needed attention, a garden that behaved like a second job, and a husband who had settled comfortably into his role as a couch potato.
But my boys were bundles of pure energy, and they needed to move. So I taught them to ski, to ice skate, to rollerblade. We were always outside, always doing something. Those years were full of movement, the kind that comes from being a mum and simply enjoying life with your kids. Those everyday adventures were the foundation for staying fit without even thinking about it.
The early nineties brought Callanetics into my life. Those small, precise movements that burned in ways I didn’t expect. I went to classes whenever I could, fitting them around everything else. Even when life felt chaotic, working out always grounded me in a way nothing else did.
As a self-employed mother of two, my life was full. Busy. Chaotic in its own colourful way. I worked with people, attended courses, and lived a life that from the outside seemed rich and lively. And yes, I still did attend some exercise classes here and there. But I wasn’t committed to working out; it wasn’t really a priority for me.
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When Life Throws You Sideways
I’d always wanted three boys; that was my dream from my twenties. And even though our marriage was already falling apart, we gave it another chance, thinking that another baby might help us find our way back to each other. It didn’t. Some things don’t hold together, no matter how much love you try to pour into foundations that are already cracked.
The divorce came, steady and inevitable.
In 2004, I came to the UK to learn English. A little later, my sons joined me, and together we decided to start over here. New country. New language. New life.
Then, in February 2006, I met my Valentine, the man who would become my husband. Sometimes the story really does get better.
Not long after that, I made a decision that quietly shaped my future. I wanted a career built around fitness. Partly because I loved it, and partly because I thought it would keep me in shape. Smart thinking, right? If your work depends on it, you’ll stay on track. So, I trained as a fitness instructor and started teaching Pilates and Body Conditioning. Teaching those fitness classes reminded me how much energy and strength we gain when we move with purpose. For many years, it has helped me stay fit, kept me connected to movement, and given our new life in the UK a steady rhythm.
The Friend Who Shifted Everything
Then I met this girl, Ella, who was absolutely crazy about working out, Zumba, and the Eat Clean diet. Her passion for fitness and a healthy lifestyle hit me like a wave, pushing me onto an entirely new path.
My husband built me a little gym in the garage. I hung up pictures of women who inspired me, bodies that represented strength and dedication. I trained, I felt alive, and for the first time, I felt proud of what my body could do. It was the real beginning of my fitness journey.
Working out wasn’t just a routine. It was a conversation with myself. A reminder that energy and strength come from repetition, discipline, and showing up.
Working out brought me happiness, helped me keep my shape, and gave me the feeling that I could do something awesome. That last part matters more than people realise. It wasn’t about looking a certain way. It was about proving to myself that I could commit to something difficult and follow through.
My Finest Hour at Fifty: Keeping in Shape at My Peak
At 50, I hit the peak of my fitness journey and signed up for Miss Galaxy Universe ’14, a fitness and beauty pageant I never imagined stepping into before.
It proved that when you keep working out with consistency and drive, there is almost no limit to how far you can push yourself. In the years that followed, I learned that staying fit also requires consistency and staying active every day.
Now, picture this: one hundred and fifty women of all ages, different categories, standing side by side. The atmosphere was friendly during the fitness portion. We cheered each other on, offered encouragement, and shared the nervousness. But when it came time for stage performance in bikinis and evening wear, something shifted. We were all friendly, sure, but we each wanted to place well. That tension was real.
I can’t adequately describe what that experience meant – standing on that stage in my fifties, surrounded by women half my age and twice my courage. Feeling scared and powerful at the same time. The only word that comes close is “wow,” but even that falls short.
The Slow Slide Nobody Mentions
Time passed. I still had my gym and felt proud of it. But I stopped using it daily. A few times a week became good enough. Sometimes the gym became more of a hiding place than a workout space. A spot to think. To breathe. To escape.
Then we got into Napoleonic re-enactment and needed space for all the gear. The gym moved to a part of the workshop. And somehow, quietly, my sessions faded away completely. I told myself the classes I taught were enough to keep me in shape.
What a lie that was!
This is the part nobody talks about. Not the dramatic fall, but the quiet one. The gram here, the bit there. The trousers felt tight, so I bought leggings. Then a bigger bra. Then a size bigger top. Before I knew it, ten kilograms had appeared “overnight.” Except it wasn’t overnight at all. It was day by day, choice by choice, lie by lie.
I was unhappy. Ashamed. Still telling myself that next month will be different. Next year would be the year. It never was.
Rock Bottom in Paradise
In 2022, we temporarily moved to Dubai. And despite the city’s glam reputation, I found myself falling apart inside.
Besides the psychological challenges (I faced a lack of greenery, nowhere to walk regularly, oppressive heat, feeling separated, no personal income, loss of independence and freedom), I realised I was overweight.
But instead of changing anything, I moaned about everything. It was everyone else’s fault. Mostly my husband’s. He didn’t quite understand where my frustration came from, but he didn’t run away either.
The Awakening After Sixty
Then something shifted. Through a friend, I discovered an online personal-growth platform. I learned meditation, manifestation, emotional healing, and mindset work. These weren’t magic tricks. They were tools. Tools that helped me put my life back into my own hands.
I found myself again. My peace. My confidence. The truth hit hard:
If I don’t help myself feel happy, useful, successful, fit, or whatever I want to be, nobody else can or will.
They don’t print that on motivational posters, but they should.
Where I Stand Today
Here I am at 61, back on my fitness journey and working on rebuilding my life. My experiences, both my successes and my setbacks, have taught me valuable lessons that have helped me move forward. Each moment—whether triumph or failure—has contributed to my growth as a person, as a mother, wife, sister, daughter, grandmother, and coach. I no longer feel ashamed about my past disappointments. I’m not questioning how or why things happened; what’s done cannot be undone. Instead, I am grateful for everything I’ve learned from both my successes and failures.
Today I’m here to share this with you, to help you see through the mist. Yes, there’s sun shining for you, and yes, it’s in your power to rise from the ashes like that Phoenix. Because as long as we’re breathing, there’s a great chance we can push through whatever’s blocking our view.
The only thing you need to know is your big fat WHY. Not a “should” or “supposed to.” Not waiting for motivation. A why that pulls you out of bed on days when everything hurts.
My Why, And Finding Yours
For me, it’s being here for:
✨ My adult sons, as mother, friend, and mental supporter.
✨ My grandchildren, so I can keep up with their energy, liveliness, and passion, and be a great part of their lives.
✨ My husband, to be his rock-solid support and home creator.
✨ My dad, to be the daughter he can be proud of.
✨ My younger brother, to let him know I’m still here.
✨ My friends, especially those I’ve known for years, show that there’s still so much in front of us.
That’s what gets me up in the morning and into my workout clothes, even on days when the couch looks really inviting.
What’s your why? The real one. Not the polite one. Not the “should” one. The one that makes your chest tighten when you imagine losing it. The one that lifts you when everything feels heavy.
Keeping in shape isn’t really about shape at all. It’s about staying in your life and being present for the moments that matter – having the energy and strength to show up for the people you love. Feeling capable and powerful in your own skin, regardless of what that skin looks like.
Your journey won’t look like mine. Your timing will be different. Your obstacles will be your own. But one truth never changes:
You get to decide.
Today.
Right now.
Not next month. Not next year.
Now.
The woman I am today would tell the woman I was at any age:
You’re enough, and you’re worth the effort.
Every single day, you’re worth it.
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