They aren’t my only loves, lifting and writing, but they are the two most like one another. They are the two that seize my thoughts in the time between slumber and my bare feet greeting the bedroom floor. They are the two that fondle and chisel, with the promise of uncovering pleasures and treasures within me. They satisfy me with immediate gratification and fulfill me with infinite possibilities.

Immediate Gratification

I delight in how writing feels in the moment. I instinctively roll the fine instrument to and fro along my thumb and two longest fingers. As ideas flow, a charge surges through my hand and my wrist manipulates the metal ball of the pen up, down, and in loops and lines, masterfully across the page. That sound, the incessant scratch of the pen and grainy brush of my skin against the paper, is intoxicating. At the height of inspiration, rereading my words is an act of self-pleasure. Keying, then releasing those words to the world with the tap of a button, is precisely orgasmic.

Likewise, I love how lifting feels in the moment. I methodically stretch, measure and wrap my fingers around the grooves of the metal barbell, pressing its curve firmly into the fleshy web between my thumb and first finger. As I engage, power swells though my muscles, and my entire body bears down, acting fluidly to move the weight through the air. Going heavier and heavier is exhilarating. Bursting past the unbreakable tension to hold the bar in its final position is a full body rush.

Infinite Possibilities

Lifting is an unending challenge. Every combination of cast iron plates loaded onto the steel bar builds my capacity and curiosity. The best presses are celebrated with an exclamation mark and punctuated with a colon; each incremental triumph a direct precursor to the next.

Writing is a perpetual challenge. Every wedded word and married phrase vows to cultivate my craft. What more is there to say, in what new way, on each fresh page?

They aren’t my only loves, lifting and writing, but they are the two passions nourishing me in the way I believe love should.

It was the silliest thing, really. But that one little change let me see myself in a stronger more beautiful light. The answer was all in a shirt.

There I was squatting over 200 pounds. I’d see myself in the mirror between sets, fidgeting to raise the waistband of my tights and tugging on my tank which insisted on creeping up and slipping into spaces I’d rather it not. Despite the serious load I was lifting, my eyes insisted on scrutinizing the shape of my midsection. Don’t get me wrong, I may have been slightly galled at the gains in my waistline, but I was definitely psyched about my lifts. I was totally aware of the absurdity of my thoughts even as I had them and that annoyed me almost more than the ill-fitted shirt.

I’ve collected many tops over the years— fitted tanks and customary event tees, especially. I suppose the years, inches, and wash cycles have also accumulated, rendering some of my gear too small. Was it habit, unyielding pride or nostalgia that I was clinging to?

Years ago when I was teaching post-natal fitness classes, I would often advise the ladies to own one great pair of jeans that fits right now. Now it was time to heed my own wise words. All I needed was a great top with a generous waistline. Done!

I trained in my new top from Lole, a fantastic lifestyle brand with super smart active wear for women. And for which, I happen to be a Lole community ambassador — wink. The style was sporty and the fabric cool. The loose fit created space between the seams and my torso, and modesty where the top of my tights met my midsection. And unlike many of my older tops, on the inside back collar was a small tag with a little letter m.

This time I cleaned, jerked and pressed never fiddling with my clothes between sets. My focus changed. I was no longer distracted by my own critical gaze. So silly. The answer was all in a shirt.

Silly Habits: The best thing I did to improve my body image was originally published in Be Yourself on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

We are the 15% minority, they say. Really? Only 15% of the population is physically active? That can’t be right. Perhaps that refers specifically to gym goers. Either way, it seems askew.

Life among the fit minority is sweet, isn’t it? We have a mutual appreciation of hair ties, smooth mixing shakes and weight gloves. We grind through circuits together, post workout updates and make lavish use of fit hashtags. Among us, circles an awesome aura of positivity and motivation. And having adopted a healthy lifestyle, fitness and nutrition easily seep into our social and sometimes, professional lives. (Think of all those women you know who lost weight, got strong and became trainers). Before you know it, you’re surrounded by nothing but capped shoulders, trim waists, supplement ads and marathon runners. At least that’s what happened to me.

I love my tribe but here’s the thing. When we’re immersed in this strong, svelte and sweaty subculture, our perspective can get distorted. We can view our performance, circumference or weight relative to our own fit, clean-eating minority. We compare ourselves, inevitably, if not intentionally, to the leanest, fittest, strongest, and healthiest among us.

It’s like Michelangelo judging his talent only in respect to that of Titian’s, Donatello’s and da Vinci’s. On a lousy uninspired day, he may have contemplated the The Statue of David or The Last Supper and succumbed to a downward spiral of doubt and disparagement,though he was infinitely more talented than the average person.

We the fit, may do the same in our darker moments. Missed workouts, competition losses or a creep in weight can all trigger feelings of inadequacy, despite our above average fitness levels and achievements. When this happens, it’s helpful to see at yourself through a broader lens, one not focused exclusively on your sport or even on the fit world at all.

I admit that mingling in other social circles often fares well for my ego. I get home, check the mirror with a twist and a playful smile and I’m like, “ya, I’m good”. It’s not about absolutes or direct comparisons. The satisfaction stems from seeing myself from a different perspective. It’s a more telling picture of my position along a spectrum of lifestyles and capabilities — one speckled with contrasting shapes, sizes, habits and desires. But then again, that very same viewpoint reminds me why I choose to belong to the 15%.

We Are The 15%: The pride and pitfalls of the fit population was originally published in Fit Yourself Club on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Each Tuesday at noon, I gather my pen, paper and the possibility of all words and head home. You may think you see me somewhere between Bloor and Springhurst, but I’m not really there. Language is holding me captive.

Have you signed up for a new circuit class or nutrition program to kick off your 2016 fitness goals? Awesome. You’ll soon be feeling stronger, svelter and generally more fabulous. Yes, I have absolute faith you can do it. But be warned. Achieving success in the gym can wreak havoc on your closet!

It starts off well. Within a few weeks, you find your groove and are squatting, side-planking and slow-cooking with the best of them. Then one morning while dressing for work, you fasten that precarious middle button on your staple dress shirt almost effortlessly. It’s working! A few weeks later you’re admiring how your once snug pencil skirt now shimmies left and right across your waistline with ease. Sweet! And if things go really well, you even dare retrieve those old mid-rise, straight leg jeans from their time out in the back of your closet. They fit! It’s a wonderful feeling — almost as good as that PR you banged out last workout!

Then one morning while dressing for work, you fasten the last button on your staple dress shirt and frown. Humph. Your cutest tops now gape at the armpits, waist or back and your priciest bottoms sag where they once hugged. This is the bittersweet result of your kick-ass efforts in the gym, a new ill-fitting wardrobe. Oh joy.

As a fashionista, you may jump at the chance to coordinate new purchases in your new smaller size. Hello, a totally legit reason to shop. To others, the task of restyling may be daunting, stressful or even upsetting. Before you throw in the towel or take your credit card out for a marathon shopping spree, consider these smart solutions to help manage your wardrobe as your size and change:

1. Start At The Bottom

A sharp look starts with good foundation garments. Your bra and underwear size may change as you lose inches. If the underwire rides up or if that pretty black lace is no longer snug to your skin, it’s time to refresh. Visit a local boutique for a professional bra fitting and consider investing in at least one high-quality bra that fits well now and will also fit if you lose another inch off your bustline. With the girls well supported, you’ll appear taller and slimmer through the torso, while the right underwear will ensure a great rear view in your favourite outfits.

2. Tailor To Your Needs

Like your hairstylist and naturopath, a tailor could become your next best friend. A skilled tailor can alter different parts of your blazers, shirts, pants, skirts and dresses to ensure a better fit as your measurements change. This small investment in your best pieces can extend the life of your outfits by several months.

3. What’s Old Is New Again

Second hand shopping is a smart way to get “new to me” items while saving on cash and your environmental footprint. Bonus points for this eco-friendly option. Patience, savvy and comfortable shoes will serve you well in treasure-filled consignment and thrift shops where you can spend shockingly low prices on preloved pieces. If you’re lacking in patience and savvy, enlist the help of a professional stylist like Love Ur Layers. Online classified groups and clothing swaps are another fantastic way to find gently worn casual or work wear. This one’s win-win as you can also unload those larger sizes that no longer fit and often have leftovers donated to charity.

4. Think Fast

While they may not provide long-lasting relationships, fast fashion basics from popular mall brands can be a good interim solution as your size and shape shift. A seven dollar tee or fifty dollar jeans may be just what you need to get through the season and keep looking hot while you sweat off those last ten pounds. Resist the urge to overshop though. Remember your size may change again. Plus, the goal is less stuff, right? ;-)

5. Rent vs Buy

Whether you’ve achieved your goal or are still working toward it, special occassions are the perfect opportunity to celebrate your success. Go ahead, get dolled up and strut your stuff with new confidence and a fancy frock. But instead of spending a small fortune on a dress that may not even fit by time the next wedding invitation arrives, consider a designer dress rental. The expert stylists at Rent Frock Repeat will help select a style and size that shows off your assets and all your hard work!

6. Hold On

If you’ve followed the plan, you should arrive at a size, shape or fitness level that you feel great at and which you can sustain healthfully. At this stage, you’ll inevitably have a few great items in your closet that are just a smidgen too big and too nice to part with. Consider hanging onto these select few pieces for one more season. Life happens and in the case that you gain a few pounds or inches again, you don’t want to find yourself in the same situation with nothing to wear eight months from now. If by the next season they are still too big, part ways!

The Perfect Fit: 6 tips to manage your wardrobe while losing weight was originally published in Fit Yourself Club on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Six months before my milestone birthday, I made a list. I challenged myself to complete 40 health and fitness-related activities before 40. My “40 x 40” was a unique medley of curiosities, fancies and fears from my youth and adulthood.

I’m proud to say that I’ve ushered in the new decade with muscle and moxie. Each activity, whether challenging my body or feeding my soul, was a deliberate and welcome experience. I learned more about my abilities, tendencies, fears, limits and pleasures. The insights below are based on my reflections having completed the challenge. They are personal reminders, assurances and beliefs, as well as fitness and life lessons for anyone ready to begin living out loud!

1. Pole Dancing Is Serious Business

Pole artists may not command respect as athletes but I’m totally impressed by their strength and abilities. That afternoon, our instructor Dawn led us through a sequence of serious spins, bends and rolls. It was a no-nonsense class but at times, her humorous comments veered more toward finances than form. “Learn how to pop that and you’ll know where your rent is coming from.” Nope, not my usual workout! By the end, my forehead was glistening and my calves were on fire. That evening, I sorely regretted finishing the class without a stretch. Days later, I was still recovering with the fascial stretch therapy on my shoulders and arms. Yes, it was a painful reminder that regardless of the fun factor and the fact that I can hang with 20-somethings, it’s still a workout and I’m still 40 years old. Don’t forget to stretch!

2. Facing a fear may not rock your world

There was no big victory at the playground, in the swimming pool, nor in Kaye’s aerial yoga class. I tried being upside down and I tried wading through the water and found both as frightening as ever. Though I imagine it’s totally possible to just outgrow a fear, I certainly hadn’t. I hoped that revisiting these activities as an adult might shed some light on my inhibitions. And I do see that control seems to be a common theme. I still don’t understand my fears fully and to be honest, have no burning desire to conquer them but, I am very proud to have faced them.

3. Where there’s a will there’s a discount

As important as health and fitness are, they are in many ways, a financial luxury. My enthusiasm for fitness even now, is not matched by my budget but I often find ways to save money. This little challenge would have been much pricier if I hadn’t. Thankfully, my nutritionist friend, Hema, offered up a homemade brew for my first taste of kombucha, at no cost. And a new junior therapist at my clinic was offering complimentary treatments for staff — part professional development, part bonus. I booked my reflexology appointment online through League and applied a $50 discount offer. Pole dancing was free based on a referral and like many class studios, both Fly Studio and CYKL offered introductory drop-in rates for first-timers. If you’re motivated to move, do a little research, and you may just find a way to do it within your means.

4. Seize The Day

Some of my favourite experiences happened on the fly, because I saw the opportunity and took it. I ran into a friend, literally steps away from Soma and that’s where the awesomeness that is affogato went down. Swimming, the most frightening on my list, was part of an agenda-free summer afternoon with the family. I ticked volleyball off after jumping in as a sub on my sister’s team with less than 24 hours notice. And I got back on a bike with about 5 minutes notice when a colleague insisted I borrow her wheels and take advantage of the balmy December day. I’m all for planning (I’m a Capricorn after all) but I believe it’s important that we also leave room for life to surprise us.

5. Join The Conspiracy

I shared my list with friends, not expecting the responses I received. I was taken aback by the number of offers to help or accompany me through specific challenges. Oyster dates, swimming, pole dancing and bike meet-ups were all on the table. I graciously accepted a unique water bottle as a gift, along with offers of homemade kombucha, fresh juice for a day, and slow cooked wild boar!

I see now how excited my friends were about my efforts. I’m learning that, counter to my instinct for independence, I can accomplish more with the support of others. When pursing new dreams and goals, your family, friends and greatest cheerleaders may conspire to help you succeed. Let them.

6. You’ve Still Got It

Sprinting, volleyball and jazz dance were all choice activities from my youth. Giving each a go again as an adult was exhilarating. In all three cases, I picked up as if no time had passed. While track was a bit harder on my body than I remember, I could have served, spiked and sashayed for hours. Dancing was especially nostalgic, inspiring my Jazzed blog post, and provoking living room screenings of A Chorus Line and Flashdance. There are other activities from my youth that I have no desire to revisit. I believe that if you have fond memories of something you excelled at, and if thinking about it makes you smile, chances are your body will remember how to do it and your soul will still love it. Chances are as well, that there is an adult class, league or association ready to welcome you.

7. Dancing Is Good For The Soul

I smiled ear-to-ear through beginner jazz, pole dancing and Cize. Dancing is so liberating and energizing leaving me to wonder why I don’t do it more often. When did life get so serious? All three classes, with their very different movements, allowed me to be silly and granted me permission to pretend. Jazz and pole in particular, renewed a sense of grace and beauty within and reconnected me with my sensuality, something that has waned with motherhood. There are numerous studies proclaiming the physical, mental and emotional benefits of dance. Drop in to any style class, from pole to hip hop to ballroom, and you’ll understand why.

8. Open The Good Bottle Of Wine

Life is full of little pleasures. For me, massages and ice wine are two of them. For whatever reason, I’ve always reserved these occasional “indulgences” for birthdays, anniversaries and the like. Why? I don’t know. I was reminded of how good massage is for my body and of the fantastically sweet taste of late harvest Vidal grapes. Heaven! The lesson, and my suggestion for everyone, is to savor the good wine with perfectly aged cheese while wearing the gorgeous sparkly shoes tucked away in your closet. Don’t wait for a special day to do it. Do it and make an ordinary day special.

9. It’s About Time

We have a somewhat contentious relationship with time, don’t we? We either want what we want now or we’re wishing for more hours in the day to get things done.

When I started this challenge in July, I was working three full days a week and parenting full-time on the others. I was eager to dive into some of the classes on my list but fitting them into my schedule wasn’t practical so I focused on the gym and food-related goals in the meantime. I incorporated cleans, snatches and pull-ups into my regular training sessions, progressing week after week until months later, my goals were met. And once my daughter returned school, I had more flexibility and began checking off all those classes too!

This challenge reaffirmed my attitude toward time. I’ve learned to work with it rather than fight it. When I can’t do everything I want to do, I look at what one or two things I can do. Or when I can’t do the one thing I really want to do, I look at what interim steps I can take to get there and trust it will happen when the time is right.

10. Try And Fail

You may have seen this quote on my Instagram page, “Try and fail but don’t fail to try”. I love this. Guess what? I failed this challenge. I only completed 32 of the 40 items on my list. I didn’t eat oysters, try community acupuncture or get a pelvic floor exam. And of the 32 check marks completed, five of those were somewhat modified. But guess what else? In failing the challenge, I completed THIRTY-TWO fun, challenging and rewarding experiences that have encouraged me and inspired others to live out loud every day. I’d say that’s a huge success!

10 Lessons From My “40 x 40” was originally published in Be Yourself on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

“Did you call yet, Mom?”

“Mom, did you call?”

“Remember, you said you’d call!” I prodded for weeks.

Surely with persistence I’d get my one wish and claim a spot in Mandy’s Thursday night jazz class. I wanted so badly to dance with Christine, Amanda and the other fifth grade girls. My vision of sashaying across a studio floor was coaxed by trendy images of Jennifer Beals and episodes of Fame.

Tired of waiting, I precociously made the call, gathered the info directly from Mandy, and presented it to my mother exactly. Case closed, I anticipated donning swanky new tights for class the next week! Didn’t happen. I was crushed by what, in my tween existence, felt like the injustice of all time. So that was it. Christine and the girls continued step-ball changing without me, I got a Beaver Canoe suit for sixth grade gym and life went on such as it was.

Thankfully, I was enrolled in summer arts camp for several years. All day we sang, danced and created designs for our mini renditions of Cats, Annie and A Chorus Line. It was spectacular. Those were the best summers ever. Until 2001 that is.

I was 25 and single with good rhythm and extra pounds to lose. Hip hop dance was perfect. Before long, I was a regular in Kat’s Tuesday and Sunday classes. I was happy, svelte and loving life. I met my husband soon after. (No coincidence, I’m sure). Once again, best summer ever.

Fifteen years later, it was all so familiar: the air of the studio, the sassy instructor. Taking Kate’s class reminded me of my enduring fondness for dance. The music, drama, playfulness and discipline. My body basked in the movement through curious positions so different from my day to day mechanics. I felt new awareness of the control, freedom and punctuation in jazz dance. Class ended and I already wanted more!

Why dance? Why now when I’m nearing my 40’s? I can’t say exactly. I’m following a gut feeling about something that just feels right. I don’t plan to perform in any mini-musicals but I do plan to claim my spot in class. This will be an interesting addition to my lifting and yoga routine. Flex, flow and Fosse. Yep, this should be fun!

I’ve never been sold on the flawless fit-girl-next-door image nor the promise of tighter glutes in ten days. It’s simply not my style. I’d be more swayed by cover shots ala Annie Leibovitz, holistic health columns and captivating journalistic articles about professionals and real consumers of fitness.

This is why I’m so into social media. Now you may think Instagram + fitness = an obnoxious flood of gym selfies and healthy dinner plates. And you wouldn’t be wrong, but I have a different slant. My social feeds produce a compilation of content featuring strong beautiful women from many disciplines. I’m engaged in conversations about physiology, body image, and the business of health and fitness. By following a liberal mix of accounts I’ve gained a broader perspective for sure.

Fitness is big. But greater than the branches, is the depth of human experience. Everyone loves a great transformation story but I’m more interested in the Pilates instructor, runner, bikini model and gym manager all having battled eating disorders; and the ethical debates had by physique competitors; and that fitmom training tirelessly to maintain a sense of control. The truth is there’s a diversity and complexity to fitness the evidence of which is scattered in many places.

If you find inspiration among popular fitness and lifestyle media, that’s great. But if you feel disinterested, deceived, defeated or excluded by the norm, you should seek new content. Some of my favourite follows right now are ballet companies, yogis, sport photographers, and two different nutrition coaches with very colourful personalities.

So, update the images and messages in your feeds. Follow women who share your fitness interests and follow women who do the things you dare dream of. Subscribe to that which respects your present and that which propels you forward. Pink crop tops and tight glutes are lovely, but if that’s all you think fitness is, you don’t know what you’re missing!

TIP: Follow me on Instagram (@supafitmama) for a gallery of my favourite images and positive words representing strength, beauty and discovery.

“All who wander are not lost”. I’ve never read Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings but I like that quote.

I’ve always been taken by free spirits who set out on unmapped adventures, stamping their passports with rich experiences along the way. In fact, I’ve crossed paths with many creative bohemians over the years: the divorced healer who spontaneously retreats to Costa Rican hideouts; the young yogi who made the Himalayans her home for a year; and, my favourite, the condo-dwelling television producer turned country wine maker.

My life experience once seemed pale by comparison. Never had I couch-hopped across cities nor slept under the stars. Never had I skinny-dipped in open water nor scaled rocky terrains. Never had I flirted with survival in a foreign land. Yet, here I am, stationed unexpectedly in a new harbour. I can’t tell you when I had set off, exactly, or the coordinates of my trip. I can only tell you that I move different, see different, feel different; that I traded beliefs and built character in the process; that I’ve been rewarded with moments, with people and with an understanding of myself that I treasure.

Could it be that all who wander do not travel across land to reach their destinations? It has occurred to me that some onlookers see me as I see my wanderlust friends. They see me always venturing into something new with an unfettered willingness to try: half marathon, bodybuilding, track meets, a new career, television appearances, photo shoots, publishing, and my personal 40x40 project. It’s true. I’ve unassumingly embarked on quite a course. This indeed has been my unmapped adventure.

It excites me when friends and clients get serious about fitness because I know the thrill of self-discovery that awaits them. How they, too, will move, see and feel different. How they will build belief and character. How they will find themselves in remarkable new places. This, I’d say above all else, is the best reward sport and fitness have to offer.

If you feel the urge to move, follow it. Take off. Run. Climb. Sail. Turn corners. Shift course. Stumble. Rise. Press forward with confidence knowing there is something new to uncover at every turn. Press forward and find yourself in a new chapter of your story.

English and phys ed were, without question, my favourite subjects. I would have been content to review classic literature and volleyball drills all year. So when it came time to apply for university, I debated between two befitting majors — communications and kinesiology.

My interest in sports was obvious. It seeped into everything, from my artwork to my friendships. Pursuing a degree in physical education was a logical direction but I was hesitant to continue down what I saw as the road most travelled. I didn’t want to be, by default or otherwise, yet another black person in sports.

My talents were not limited to sprinting and spiking and I wanted the world that existed beyond those familiar high school double doors to know that. I was a gifted student with a love of language, an understated interest in the arts, and the drive to succeed in business. A unique coop position granted me early entry into the professional advertising world and my decision was made. I became a communications major idealistically fixed on effacing media stereotypes.

Funny: after four years of undergrad studies and over ten years in marketing-communications, I’ve come full circle back to fitness and athletics. Some things have changed since then, some haven’t. I’m still that athlete testing my abilities on new terrain. I’m still that woman wanting to stand apart from the crowd and defy popular expectations. I’m still that person who wants to shift images and viewpoints. Only the playing field has changed.

I look through the glossy pages of fitness magazines filled with convention and consider two stances. On one hand, I want to be in there posed and flexed as a dark haired, chocolate skinned reality not to be denied. On the other hand, I have no desire to join line-up of sexualized bikini babes whose representation opposes my brand of strength and beauty.

Is there a place for me in this popular fitness world? Does an undiscovered tribe await me, or is there a gap for women like myself, I wonder? And so I find myself filling my pages with my own reality. The reality of a smart, creative, beautiful, ambitious, athletic, healthy, thirty-nine year old black woman who has won, lost, taught, learned, given birth, grown, and still has so to share.