It is beyond my ken that we as a society and as humans somehow believe that by reaching an Instagram moment- the day I competed, the day I reached my ideal weight, blah blah, it would be locked in stone. Interestingly I have a photo of myself after having lost close to ninety pounds back in 1987.

Thirty three years later I STILL have that body.

Not only that I turned myself into an adventure athlete at 60, beginning with climbing Kilimanjaro. Since then I've hit 47 countries doing the kinds of things most folks bark about doing and never do, in places most folks can't even pronounce. Only reason I'm not now just getting back from a return trip to Mongolia is Covid.

The world is full of stories of fitness pros well past 70 who didn't pick up a weight until they were 59. I've lifted for close to fifty years- and I let my eating habits get shitty. When I corrected those habits I got to see all the work I'd done. Still can.

Life goes on. The body deteriorates with abuse or laziness. Diets are bullshit, because the implicit promise is that all you gotta do is eat this and you too will look like Chris Hemsworth.

Fit isn't thin. Fit isn't slim. Fit is FIT, however that's defined by body type and a thousand other considerations. I am perpetually gobsmacked that people cannot do the most basic research that allows them to understand what their unique body requires, the best kind of movement that they will both do and enjoy for life, and back off the shit they both eat and do that is toxic, and then bitch about the inevitable results.

The answer to fitness is easy. Doing the work for life is hard.

Horizon Huntress, prize-winning author, adventure traveler, boundary-pusher, wilder, veteran, aging vibrantly. I own my sh*t. Let’s play!

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