I went for my first outdoor run in nearly five months this past Sunday. I’ve become a seasonal runner, preferring indoor Peloton in the winter and outdoor runs in the warmer months. But despite intensive, committed cross-training on the bike, the run was slow and inelegant. My knees were confused by the impact; I felt nearly-nauseous on the hard hill at the end of my run (we all have dreaded stretches, don’t we?) And I’d forgotten how wrung-out you feel after a good run — for me, it’s unlike any other form of exercise with the exception of, maybe, mountain climbers or bear crawls in the gym, which deliver a similar kind of full-body cardio exhaustion. I had to remind myself that it takes time to clip back into running, and that a slow start is better than no start at all. This mindset would have been untenable for me just a few years ago. For most of my life, I’ve had two modes (and this relates to both exercise and life): full-speed or off. I was very much raised in the all-girls-school-intensely-competitive mindset of: What’s the point of doing something if not all-out? Then, a few years ago, a friend of mine was training for a marathon and she told me — almost tossing it out like an afterthought — “There are all kinds of runs for all different purposes. Sometimes I go intentionally slow.” My mind was blown. I’d actually never conceived of the idea of taking an intentionally slow or short or long run. I was just going as fast as I could for the proscribed amount of time I had, hoping to outperform my last circuit. These are the kinds of unlearnings that I am interested in during this season of my life: how can I give myself a little more grace, a little longer leash? How can I avoid the mentalities that are destined to burn me out?
My first step in this “unlearning process” as it related to running was getting rid of my tracking tools. I no longer run with a watch or app. I have only the loosest idea of pace or distance. This ran against my religion at the time. I used to be so focused on self-measurement, on optimization. And — look — you can’t improve on what you can’t measure, you know? So there are areas that are worth tracking. But, for me, running was not one of them, and decoupling the activity from my stenographic instincts was an important final mile step in recovering from a history of disordered eating. (I found this out only later. It was like the final clip in the seam.) I took some time to really think — philosophically — about my goals for exercise. I determined I was no longer interested in the calories burned, or the mile time. I wanted cardio for health of heart and mind, and weight-lifting to protect my aging bones (something my doctor continually insists on as a key for perimenopausal health and beyond). I was after that mental flush that exercise gives you, the way it rewards you with a good-all-over feeling, and the promise of a strong body as I head into this middle life phase. The watch, the app: they were giving me data that was ultimately irrelevant to my underlying goals, and in fact distracting me from my purpose and making me feel like I was failing. So I said goodbye to all that. I now run “free” and use a binary system for tracking: did I work out or not? I check a box that says “yes” and it feels wonderful. It doesn’t matter how long I ran, or whether or not I outdid my past “total output” on the Peloton. I moved my body, and that met my goal.
One of the surprising outcomes of this mind shift: I actually find joy in exercise. Not always, to be clear. There are mornings where I’d rather be undergoing dental care than getting on the bike or lifting weights. On those mornings, I remind myself: sometimes you just have to move the dirt. But more often than not, I have a neutral-to-positive outlook on it, and there are certain Peloton rides that have felt nothing short of gleeful. Good music, challenging sprints, the social element of completing the rides (virtually) with my sisters and Dad! I have found myself singing and smiling in the saddle. And in the warm months, on a beautiful early summer morning, when the crepe myrtles are in bloom and the sun lays on the moss-covered stone wall that lines the final ascent on my regular running circuit, I feel almost ecstatic. How good to move my body in this perfect spring morning, I think. For so long, running felt like a necessary evil, a punishment, a way of erasing calories. Now it feels like a giving practice.
I will add one slightly nuanced input: I listened to this podcast a year ago with a perimenopause expert who said that “what worked for maintaining your fitness and your weight in your 20s and 30s will probably no longer work in your 40s.” I have found this to be (maddeningly) true. I have noticed such a change in my physique the last two years in particular, and even if I am doing the exact same circuits and eating the exact same diet, my body is reacting to and tolerating things differently. For example, alcohol is much harder for me to process these days; now, Landon and I try to avoid it most weeknights. We always talk about how incredible we feel during the week for this reason — we sleep better, our bodies feel better. But we love wine, and we will go the extra mile for an excellent cocktail (all of our secrets and notes for the best at-home cocktails here), and we believe that there is a time and place for everything in moderation — so we permit ourselves this joy over the weekend. Delicious to pair with meals, fun to mix up with friends, a component of our 6 p.m. wind-down rituals. I’ve noticed something similar with exercise — I am doing more cardio and more intensive strength training than I’ve ever done in my life (!) and it feels like I need that extra work just to maintain my “normal” physique. Even as I write that, I think to myself: but what is normal? Maybe “normal” in my 40s is not “normal” in my 30s and that’s OK, you know? (How do I age with grace, tolerance, acceptance?) Anyhow, I am feeling my way through (one reframe I lean on, in this area and others: “it’s not how do I get to the other side? but how do I ease my way across?” The visual does something wonderfully relaxing to me), but I have observed that this phase requires a lot more care and time just to maintain. And I spend a lot of time thinking about how to honor my health without being punishing or restrictive and, on the other hand, too lenient.
How are you approaching fitness and exercise in your 40s? Have you observed any of these phenomena? Do you still run with a watch, etc?
Post-Scripts.
+Other weird things I’ve noticed in my 40s.
+Advice from big sister figures.
+What would my 70-year-old-self say?
My Favorite Spring Fitness Finds.
A propos of this post, a few of my absolute favorite fitness pieces:
LULULEMON LONG-SLEEVED TEE // RHONE SHORTS // RHONE ANORAK
These Rhone shorts…! Maybe the best running shorts I’ve ever worn, which is saying a lot because I’ve tried a lot of the styles from “serious runner” brands like Tracksmith. I love the loose, breathable fit; the length (not too short); the wide but not constricting waistband! These seem to sell out quickly but are available in a few colors. I’ve written about the anorak a bunch but it’s such a great top layer for throwing on pre or post workout, and I love the wide hem cut — sort of skirts the body without hugging it. So flattering.
This long-sleeved tee is a performance material so you can wear on a run / while on bike but it’s also super chic/cute as a top layer. Love the slightly long length. How often do we see stripes in athletic wear?! Love. Vote for more of this.
A few other fitness items I love:
THE ONLY BIKE SHORTS THAT I FIND FLATTERING (DON’T CUT IN ANYWHERE)
MY FAVORITE LIGHTWEIGHT (SUPER SOFT) TANKS
BEST BASE LAYER FOR COLDER RUNS
GREAT ALL AROUND FITNESS SHORT
BEST GYM SHOES (STABILIZE ANKLE, PROVIDE SUPPORT)
More Shopping (Not Just Fitness).
+Spring sweatshirt upgrades: love this reverse fleece in the cherry blossom pink; this just-launched “rugby” sweatshirt from Alice Walk in the green; and of course my personal favorite “Locker.” The details on the latter are next level. LOVE the silhouette, the drop shoulder seam, the cropped but not body-hugging hem…perfection.
+Chicest striped tunic to throw on with jeans or shorts.
+Handsome spring golf shirt pour les hommes. (My husband just treated himself to these new golf shoes, in the snow/dune colorway, too. He always checks with me on style and these got my approval — ha.)
+These shoes are in my cart! I just love everything about them.
+My mom just ordered this spectacular lace caftan. I might have to copy.
+Did you see Hill House did a cute collab with Wetbrush?! I ordered a few of them and the matching hair clip sets to give as birthday gifts this year (nestled in a little pouch!) for 9-to-10-year-olds. They also have a mini size perfect for backpacks, and these “GRWM” clips for older gals. I ordered all of these from Ulta because the shipping is quicker and less expensive, but you can also buy at HHH if you’re ordering something else from there. (May I remind you of how much I LOVE the cut and feel of this swimsuit?!)
+More pretty spring bedding, this time from a new-to-me brand. Has anyone tried Coyuchi before? Love these patterns.
+Speaking of pretty spring home patterns: just discovered this gorgeous line of wallpapers from interior designer Kathryn Hunt. These patterned grasscloth ones are…!!!!
+For your mini-me: cutest jellies and barn coat (the pink or the green!!).
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Meaty topic! I have noticed that people who have more or less been the same (small) size for their entire lives tend to struggle more with inevitable midlife body changes. I think there’s a sense of a loss of control. (as opposed to those whose body size/shape has fluctuated throughout their life.) I have my fair share of my own bad body image days, but I like to think of myself and my body as riding a constant wave. No body is the same day-to-day, week-to-week, month to month. I once listened to a podcast conversation between several clinicians at an eating disorder clinic. Their message was quite simple: “bodies change. And in order to live well, we need to find peace with that.” It really stuck with me.
In terms of how I’ve approached exercise as I’ve aged, I’ve definitely put much more emphasis on function vs aesthetics. What will protect my bones, my joints, my heart the best? What has helped me make this shift is that I’ve had plenty of my own physical health issues as well as an up-close look at the effects of aging on those close to me. To remain able to solely focus on aesthetics is in many ways a privilege. If your worst problems are solely cosmetic, you are hugely lucky.
I so hear you!! Lately I’m judging my fitness solely on how winded I get going up big hills, range of motion and whether I hurt the next day. All I want is the kind of ease of movement and independence my nana has maintained in her 90s. Striving for happy mediums!
I love this rubric / goal! Beautiful! xx
Love the emphasis on protecting bones, joints, and heart — that’s my goal for fitness now, too. I also like the feeling of being strong in my own body, which I didn’t even touch on in the above. But there is this feeling I get when I’m being consistent with weight-lifting that I can really meet what the day is asking for me, whether carrying groceries or even just sitting at my desk for a long time. I just feel more capable in so many ways.
Thanks for sharing your thoughts here!
xx
I’m mid-thirties. I’ve always enjoyed yoga and pilates and my group strength training and and am reasonably fit overall but have been much of a runner. My recent goal has been to be able to run a 5k without stopping at all, and over the winter on the track at at my gym, I’ve been able to do that, which feels like a big accomplishment. But, my husband and I ran a casual 5k race recently, and despite not walking, my time was actually worse than when we did it two years ago, when I did have to stop to walk. I don’t usually time myself on runs, so maybe I was actually faster when I wasn’t pacing myself, or maybe this is a small sign of aging. It’s not so much about being fast, but I find it unnerving that this could be the start of seeing the signs of declining stamina.
Being on the cusp of aging is weird. In some ways I feel like I look healthier and better than ever, with at least a much better sense of what suits me in clothes and makeup than in my 20s. But in other ways I just look tired all the time. Maybe that’s more having small kids and a busy job than anything else.
Obviously being in the late 30s – or 40s or 50s – isn’t old at all. But it’s unnerving to feel like I might be starting to feel older. Like you say, I think the trick is to figure out how to accept the inevitable with grace.
I feel you, Mia, on the unnerving observation that you could be seeing declining stamina. I have noticed this as well. But you know one thing that really encourages me? My Dad (80 years old) still runs a few times a week and does Peloton with my sisters and I, and he’s still crushing it. He ran close to daily until he was maybe 70? Older? I feel like we have a long way to go. Another little nugget of encouragement: I don’t think I’ve ever felt stronger than I did the month I turned 40. I really worked hard with a Heather Robertson program, and I was lifting and doing complex metabolic conditioning for a full two months leading up to my birthday. I look at those photos and think — I never looked better! So I do think we have a lot of opportunity.
One last note (I can’t help but cheerlead, sorry) on that 5K you did recently — just let it be one grain of sand in an enormous beach. Like maybe you didn’t sleep well the night before, or you didn’t have enough carbs, or whatever. So many factors can go into your performance! I don’t think that one race means anything by itself!!
xx
I have so many thoughts about this, but I don’t know how to string them together.
I am currently 7 months pregnant and very limited with exercise. I was talking with my sister-in-law who is over 10 years younger trying to explain that I anticipate to be feeling better around Christmas. Not as pessimism, but I am 40 and my body is much slower to recover after each pregnancy.
The conversation reminded me that last summer I summited three mountains (small ones). The first was brutal and I did more focused exercise before attempting the next few and they were easier, but not easy.
On the third one after finishing the scramble on shale, I sat for a moment and thought about just doing moderate hikes. The mountaintop views are spectacular, but at this stage in life, I would rather chose an easier hike than go home totally exhausted and then have small children needing my nonexistent energy. I have always used exercise as a stress relief tool, but how does one balance the need for endorphins and the need to conserve energy for family life?
And then the whole metamorphosis of our bodies in middle-age is another piece that I don’t know how to fit into the puzzle. I want to lose the baby weight officially for “health reasons”, but honestly aesthetics are a big unspoken motivation. How do I shift the motivation to be truly strength and health rather than the desire of fighting aging covered in a transparent thin veneer of wellness?
I don’t think we mentally give ourselves enough time for recovery from pregnancy. Six months out from having twins and a c-section my body still looked like kind of a wreck and I assumed it was just going to be like that going forward and that was it. But I saw gradual improvements in my strength and my appearance over the next two full years. I’m sure it all gets harder as you get older, and I definitely can’t say that I love that my c-section scar will be there forever, but pregnancy gave me a lot of appreciation for how strong and resilient I could be,
Love this note, and completely agree! It really took me until I stopped breast-feeding to begin to feel back in my own body. A commenter above/below made the point that maybe we should do more work to recognize that our bodies are in constant fluctuation — that really landed with me and is making me second guess whether the phrase “feel back in my own body” is a good one. Like maybe there’s no “back to normal” or “baseline” or I should stop thinking of things like that? But it certainly felt, on a physical level, as though I was living in someone else’s body until I stopped breastfeeding, and then I slowly started to see myself in the mirror again as I’d always seen myself. To be fair, though, those c-section scars forever changed my abdomen and I still look at them and think “huh. How did I look before?” At the same time, I’m so proud of myself for those two c-sections. And I’d endure so much more for these babies!!!
xx
Oh Anita! I relate so much to all of this, and thank you for your vulnerability here! I know many of us have felt the same; you’re not alone. I love the way you’ve asked about balancing the need for endorphins with the demands of family life. I don’t have an answer here but I will say — I think I am a better mom, writer, wife, friend when I have had time to exercise. It is such a powerful mental wellness venue for me. For this reason, I try to make exercise a non-negotiable, and Landon really helps me be elbows-out about it, too (just like with my weekly manicure — it’s my little time for myself) BUT (!) I keep it pretty brief. 30m ride followed by 10m of weight lifting. This is part of my whole “fractionality” headspace I keep writing about. I used to think you HAD to finish a book if you started it, you HAD to go all out if you were going to do something, etc. Now I realize — who made those rules!? Better to do things in small intentional ways! Anyway, just to say that I have learned over the past few years about looking for the small option that fits. Like maybe you don’t need to summit mountains during this life phase, but you can still get outside and go for shorter hikes and get that endorphin rush in a shorter window. Not to say you can’t go back to bigger mountains later, or do them sporadically and intentionally throughout the year?
Mainly, just nodding my head! Right there with you!!
xx
RE: moving the dirt. Spring and summer I let my kids messy play on the balcony, despite the fact that mess makes my skin crawl. They broke open a bunch of potting soil and knocked over the tree in their enthusiasm for sticks and dirt. I found it so overwhelming, but I reminded myself to just move the dirt! And that’s what I told my kids as we corralled everything.
Love this application!!! xx