For a significant period, I viewed cardio as a sterile, indoor necessity—a repetitive trudge on a motorized belt while staring at a screen. Previously, I assumed that the
I viewed the winter months as a period of physical hibernation—a time to retreat indoors and avoid the “elements” at all costs. Previously, I assumed that being cold
I once operated under the assumption that weight loss was directly proportional to the number of hours I spent sweating on a gym floor. Previously, I believed that
I used to think that a “real” workout required a pricey gym membership, a thirty-minute commute, and a perfectly coordinated outfit. In the past, if I couldn’t make
I have to be honest: I used to let travel be an absolute “off switch” for my health habits. In the past, I viewed any trip as a
For a long time, I treated my yoga practice like a standard gym workout. I used to think that if I didn’t leave the mat dripping in sweat
Growing up, I was the kid who always lost her shoes. Whether I was in the backyard or at the local park, I felt a magnetic pull to
When I first considered hitting the trails, I felt completely out of my element. I looked at professional hikers with their high-tech GPS units and heavy-duty gear and
When I first started my fitness journey, I was convinced that “real” exercise meant being indoors: the controlled environment of a gym, the rhythmic thump of a treadmill,
Waking up to my alarm, I admit, I’m tempted to hit snooze and steal a few more moments of cozy rest—that tug-of-war between wanting sleep and needing to
