Content warning: the following post includes personal thoughts about diet/body image.

“I work out 5 days a week. Eat enough protein, not too many carbs, good sleep and on HRT and I’m (not losing weight/still gaining weight).
“

The above quote is a variation on similar ones that I see on various social media platforms. Some days, (in my head), when I see these comments, I think, “maybe that’s the size you are supposed to be after doing those things” (feeling annoyed and smug at the same time)

Then, the next morning on the scale after a good strength day (preceded by a run day) and a good sleep week. “Ugh, why does the scale keep going up.”

Menopausal me isn’t that different from 30 year old me, to be honest. I like to think I’ve moved past my early societal indoctrination into diet culture.

Around age 31, I started running, working out more regularly (quit smoking for good) and, may have even stopped weighing myself for awhile. Trying to silence the Gen X childhood, lookalike daughter to a woman people would joke to about her size. Yes, while she was in a larger body, people would call her “Slim” for “Simi”. She was always on a diet. Eating cottage cheese and pineapple (everything old is new again) and (stressfully, joyfully?) sneaking parts of Michele’s Baguette’s cheese buns on car rides home.

Simi wasn’t into fitness. She tried to get active, here and there (cycling with friends, only to tumble and injure herself, walking on the treadmill, on and off, for years). She became fitter than ever in her late 50s after her first angioplasty and becoming a star student in cardio rehab. So much so, there was a piece written about her in the local newspaper.

She became svelter over the years, sometimes from more walking. Sometimes from less sugar. Sometimes from medications to manage her Type II diabetes. She even switched to GLP-1 to replace Metformin and it made her svelter in her older years. More fitting to her nickname,”Slim”.

In her last couple years, she shrunk to nothing. As is not uncommon, when someone is in the palliative stage, she couldn’t keep weight on. I could still hear the happiness in her voice when she would hear the latest wee size. She had to weigh herself, everyday, so she would know how much Lasix to take, to keep down the fluids in her legs, the fluids weighing down her (giant) heart.

I would hear her exclaiming she was “112 pounds” or whatever. As much as I would give anything to have her stronger, healthier, stature back, the one she wanted more than anything to shrink, I would be happy for her.

I understood how, while her appetite wasn’t as big, as she needed energy to continue to LIVE, she was relishing her ability to eat a bit of ice cream, without guilt. To think about what she wanted to eat that day and, no matter the salt, oil, bread, content, just eat it.

I remember being in elementary school and other students joking about how, on meet the teacher nights, they had to move the desks apart so my Mom could fit through.

I wish my natural reaction was, “so what??!”

I wish my natural reaction had been, “do you know my Mom gives the BEST, “squishy”, hugs? The kind of hugs that I craved for the safe, pillowy-ness, they provided?”

I wish my natural reaction had been to not care, in the ’80s when I lost weight when I had pneumonia, and I beamed at the compliments, from family friends about how thin I had become, in such a short time.

I wish I had focussed on the amazing hugs (which I also liked to give to friends in the school yard when I was in grade 1) and not how I was “little Simi” at the same time that I wanted to be thin and beautiful like the supermodels in Glamour magazine.

I wish that I hadn’t internalized all the love for thin females and the power it seemed to invoke, by starting to diet when I was 11. Sure, I still discovered “double double coffee” around that time and running to the strip mall at lunch for golden fries, salty fries. But, I started counting those fries. I started calculating what I should and shouldn’t eat.

In all honesty, as much as I learned to appreciate what exercise does for my body, outside of weight management – as much as I worked for the last 20 years to try to silence diet culture and, “what I should look like”, I don’t think that ’80s dieter has ever completely gone away.

It seemed to get quieter for awhile. People seemed to talk about getting thin less. I went to gyms with other middle aged women who focus on the strength training and good vibes more than how many calories are being burned.

I’m not the first one to notice that diet culture and thinness are back with a vengeance. Add thousands of Gen X and older Millennials, going on about the wonders of the perfect mix of protein, cortisol reducing potions, exercise, HRT – and GLP-1 and the noise about thinness is bigger than ever.

I’m also noticing some coaches, ones who mean well, ones who will gladly espouse the dangers of diet culture, finding new ways to promote variations on diet culture. I can’t help but think that obsessing about how much protein I am eating every day, tracking food in any form, ultimately does nothing other than feed into the compulsions for orthorexia that are lying dormant. I also see these coaches talking about their past lessons and the reasons why they are promoting these new “ways” as the key to lasting peace with their bodies. With their serenity. When I see these coaches posting about their past struggles and their new findings (that they are selling, of course), I can’t help but liken it to certain religious groups who provide countdowns to the apocalypse, only to start the recount when that date comes and goes without frogs dropping from the sky.

At a time when women’s rights are at threat in grand old democracies. At a time when women have every right to be angry about a myriad of things most people feel helpless about, it seems, the old tug to try to control (probably foolishly) our bodies won’t go away. If not us, who else. If not now, when?

I don’t even feel OK providing advice, because, I am still working on myself. Hopefully, I’ll have the privilege, not afforded to all, for many decades, to continue working on myself. I feel kind of ashamed of that privilege, to be honest. To waste my precious resources on thinking about what size my body should be. At the end of the day, I hope I’ll be able to use this body, whatever shape it is in, for the greater good. For more important things.

Whatever happens, those important things won’t have anything to do with how much protein I eat (or failed to eat) on any given day.

There are many healthy ways to deal with an array of emotions. I happen to find various forms of fitness are often just what the doctor ordered. This is not really meant to be prescriptive. It’s meant to be fun. If you have a preferred method of dealing with these emotions, please let me know what those methods are!

Here is my suggested list of movement for various emotions:

Do you feel like crying?

Go for a run.

Do you feel like beaming?

Go for a walk.

Do you feel like screaming?

Go for a strength training session.

Do you feel numb?

Go to a deep stretch class.

Do you feel sleepy?

Go to Pilates.

Do you feel calm?

Go to a HIIT class.

Looking for inspiration?

Walk or run and listen to a podcast or audio book

As a bonus, here are a few IG accounts of celebrities who I find refreshing these days:

Isabella Rosselini: https://www.instagram.com/isabellarossellini/

“Thetracymooore”: https://www.instagram.com/thetracymoore/

Readers what movement, podcast, story, book, anything, fits your mood(s) these days?

The FIFI bloggers often share articles amongst our group as potential inspiration to write a blog post. The other day, Sam shared, “The Generational Barriers to Physical Activity in Canada” by Wasif Chaudri in ParticipACTION (Helping people in Canada move more where they live, learn, work and play since 1971): https://www.participaction.com/wp-content/uploads/2026/02/ParticipACTION_Generational_Barriers_to_Physical_Activity_in_Canada_report.pdf

In a nutshell, the survey conducted by ParticipACTION looked to understand the reasons why, “If physical activity is recognized as being valuable (for improved mental health, increased energy and reduced risk of chronic diseases like diabetes and heart disease), but participation rates are still so low, what is preventing people from living active lifestyles?”

The survey concluded these main takeaways:

Key Generational Barriers (Based on 2026 ParticipACTION Report)

• Gen Z (18–27): Reports the highest number of barriers, including high self-consciousness, fear of failure, and lacking companionship or space for activity.
• Other Generations (Millennials, Gen X, Boomers): While also facing constraints (work obligations, boredom with exercise choices, injury and other health issues, particularly for Boomers), they tend to report fewer psychological, image-driven barriers compared to Gen Z.
• Universal Barriers: Across all ages, common barriers include lack of time, low energy/fatigue, and financial constraints. 

A key recommendation from the article was for individuals to seek supportive, beginner-friendly group activities and spaces that reduce social pressure to boost confidence. I agree with this recommendation.

The results of this survey got me thinking, what would have to change, on a bigger level, for factors such as time, low self-confidence, lack of energy, financial constraints, to not block increases in physical fitness across ages?

1. REASON – as a society, we have to make a bigger change in the messaging about the reason for exercise. Existing societal messages leave many people with the idea that the main reason to get out there for regular exercise is to “improve” the way they look. While it can be great for people to feel more comfortable in their body because they workout more regularly, this should not be the primary driver. The primary driver should be – exercise will make you feel better overall. It will improve the health markers/outcomes described in the survey.
2. We, as a larger society, have to do more than talk about “work/life balance”. We need to advocate for more green spaces, more time, better transporation options, more affordable ways for people to successfully incorporate fitness in their day. It should not be thought of as a “nice to have” but a “necessity”.

What do you think readers? What can be done to remove some of the barriers described in the survey?

My first (guest) blog post for FIFI was about my imposter syndrome when it comes to fitness. I talked about how, despite, my decades of dedication to fitness, I still felt like the kid who received a participation badge in gym class.

I haven’t felt that way in a while. I have often blogged about the WHY I am so consistent with my fitness. Thankfully, I learned long ago that my WHY was about how fitness makes me feel. How, no matter what else is going on, fitness leaves me feeling better. Some days that may be a smidge. Some days it may be the smidge that leads to a good workout – on another day. 

As I get older, the WHY just becomes clearer to me. Watching parents age and seeing, firsthand, the importance of maintaining functional fitness as one ages has become crystal clear. Of course, not everything is within one’s control, but where it is, doing what one can, within what works for them, can contribute to more freedom when one is older. Whether that means the ability to walk to the grocery store or lift a travel bag onto a train, every little bit can help. 

I have experienced, first-hand, the grief of losing parents and beloved pets and I have experienced how movement, even at a slower pace, can help you move through the sluggishness and omnipresence of grief. 

I long ago trained myself not to focus on society’s idea of results when it comes to fitness. If I focus on how fitness makes me feel and not how it may change the number on my pants — the WHY is more sustaining for me.

This doesn’t mean that I am immune to the perfectionist-seeking culture of “the perfect amount of protein/cocktail of hormones/supplements/cold plunging” that could make me exude the platinum version of Nic, both internally and externally. But, the grounding I have in my long-standing habits prevents me from taking the idea of perfectionism too seriously. I know it’s not possible. 

What is perfectionism to me, anyway? Is it important to me? NO. As I get older, the idea of legacy becomes more of a nagging question. Legacy for me has nothing to do with my outward appearance. It has to do with what others may remember about you. Especially, how you may have helped or inspired them in a positive way. 

A colleague, who is a few years older than me, recently told me that they have been discovering how much they enjoy strength training. They have been working with a trainer, in a safe way. They told the trainer, right off the bat, that they didn’t want to focus on losing weight or inches. They wanted to focus on feeling stronger. My colleague told me how well it’s been going and how much better they have been feeling. 

This isn’t the first time someone has casually mentioned to me that they have had this type of experience and that they were, partly, influenced by my approach to fitness and seeing me in action for awhile. Each time, this type of thing makes my heart sing.

As I continue through various stages of middle-age and beyond (poo poo poo), I am so glad that I have my style of training under my belt, and, hopefully, withstand societal pressures that come with this stage of life. 

Nicole P. is experimenting with different gyms, continuing strength and conditioning workouts, doing some mat pilates and anxiously awaiting clearer sidewalks to return to more consistent running routines again.

I have been in the same book club for over 27 years. I have a pretty good record when it comes to keeping up with the books each month. Until last year, I rarely arrived at book club, not having finished that month’s book. This year, I’m finding my attention span is flimsy. I’ll start a book. It may be interesting to me. For many reasons, I just can’t keep my focus, for very long.

Is my trouble with being able to focus due to our collectively shrinking attention spans? Is it due to being brain tired from work that can be emotionally heavy? Is it due to my own emotionally heavy 2025?

How do I describe the last year? A year in which I lost my Mom. I also lost my beloved shih-tzu. My other beloved senior schnauzer has advancing kidney disease. My husband and I have been giving him sub-cutaneous fluids, and other meds, to keep him comfortable, and still occasionally peppy, as long as possible.

Then, there were the two uncles who died (one on the same day as my Mom). Also, my sister’s Mother-in-law, a beloved member of our family, also died. Each of these people lived to generous, advanced ages and had good lives.

I keep thinking that I want to write about sad things in a way that is humorous. I want to make note of the happy things too. I need to work on my comedic writing. Perhaps, that will be a goal for 2026.

There were many good things in 2025. The friends and family who were there. Strengthened relationships with people very important to me. There were adorable 3 year olds.

I was visiting my Dad, the other day, who now lives in a very nice assisted living community. When I went to his room, he was waking up from a nap. He started saying he felt funny. He said, he didn’t know how to explain it. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it. He also has mild dementia, so that is not unususal. But, I asked him, “are you not feeling well?” “No, I feel fine”, he said, “I don’t know how to explain it”, he said. We went through a few adjectives and landed on “a bit anxious.” “Ah, yes”, I thought. More evidence, we are related.

My sister and BIL, also visited, while I was with my Dad, along with the adorable 3 year old. Three year olds have a way of adding healthy doses of smiles to the room, which linger throughout the day.

While we were all sitting in the common area, “bistro”, another resident entered the room. She was all smiles and very friendly. She also seemed blissfully unaware that the muu-muu she was wearing was pretty see-through and short. She confidently swayed and sauntered as she made herself a coffee. It made me giggle. Not at her. But, just at the random, simple, silliness of life. I am glad for her that she was so happy in her flimsy muu-muu.

My fitness schedule has been pretty consistent. I have managed to get out for one or two short jogs/week, even though December has been more icy than usual. I have enjoyed two or three great strength and conditioning workouts/week (some at new places, that I like). Those times at the gym continue to be a good distraction from the daily stresses. I often have friends with me, which is a great treat, but, also, movement continues to clear my head and strengthen my soul in ways I can only appreciate.

In 2026, I’d like to have the ability to strengthen my attention span. I want to enjoy more books. I want to write more. I want to be creative in ways that spark joy.

I want to spark more joy in 2026. That’s what I keep thinking. I don’t want to parade around in a flimsy muu-muu. I want the feeling of joy that surpasses what is physical or obvious on the surface.

I wish more joy for myself and for everyone.

By the beginning of October, I found myself wishing 2025 would end. 

My dog died in April.

My Mom died in July. 

My Uncle died on the same day as my Mom, in July.

My Dad is adjusting to his new assisted-living residence. Dementia makes that a bit more challenging than expected.

My sister’s mother-in-law died last week 

This is not the start of a Loretta Lynn tribute song.

I could continue to list off the reasons why I can’t wait to see 2025 in the rear view mirror. 

I like the idea of a new start, as much as anyone. A new year offers the chance for new fortunes. Better fortunes? A real vacation or two? Exciting career opportunities? Hope for the world’s seemingly fragile state?  

I am telling myself to stop wishing for 2025 to end.

I don’t like wishing my life away. Whether a week or a month or two or a year.

Not to mention, who knows if a new year will bring better fortunes. There are other options.

It’s true. 2025 hasn’t been my best year. Yet, I am here. I am healthy, and, like any day, week, or year, mixed in with the heartache and stress, there have been some good things. 

It’s not the easiest thing to say out loud, but, as much as I miss my Mom, I don’t miss her illness. She was sick for a couple years. Her illness kept her housebound, highly medicated, and, not completely herself. I grieved every bit of my Mom I lost during that time. I will forever miss the opportunity to call my Mom, but, moving on from that period of time, is not completely a bad thing. I’m so fortunate to have had MY Mom for 53 years.

Grief has a way of shining a light on the supportive people around me. I am so grateful for those supportive people.

Just over a year ago, I was struggling with inexplicable balance issues, that seem to have subsided for several months now. This is a huge relief, when I set out for a run or for my daily walk to work.

My sister continues to amaze me, in her ability to take care of necessary little details that continue to come up, when caring for elderly parents. 

My husband makes me proud. He’s the best life partner for me and I’m so grateful for him every day.

My stepdaughter has been a great source of comfort and I am proud of her and her early adulthood achievements and stability. All while she’s experienced her own losses. 

I have remained consistent with my fitness throughout this year and I am proud of myself for working through all the grief, and, grateful that I am able to do so. I still say thank you, as part of, my mantras, while on my long jogs. I continue to see fitness as the best way to weather life’s rollercoaster moments (I’ve never been a fan of rollercoasters).

The world continues to make me shake my head. From fascist leaders to unnecessary civilian deaths to growing antisemitism, I am buoyed by the friends who continue to make my immediate world make sense. 

Friends, in general, continue to be a bright spot, whether working out next to me, working in the cubicle next to me, sharing a meal or a text. 2025 has been a bright spot for highlighting the power of friendship. 

The little ones (toddlers) and young adults in my sphere continue to bring joy and delight. 

My elderly schnauzer (14+) who gave us a scare over a year ago but continues to age in bittersweet ways, brings me many moments of joy, each day. Oh Miggy, please continue to become an even older adorable fur baby.

There is always music and films and books and grateful moments of learning and escapism.

Around Halloween I decided that wishing the rest of the year away would be a frightful idea. I’d rather believe there are still good moments to come, in these last two months of the year.

So, I don’t wish for 2025 to end. I look for the moments, each day, where I can add value to those around me, seek fitness endorphins, revel in the bliss of simple rituals, enjoy hearty laughs and sneaky joys. These moments will help me successfully navigate the puddles I may need to jump over (hopefully, without being wobbly).

I’m ready for some clowning around.

My husband and I in quickly cobbled together costumes for a friend’s costume birthday party.

“Nicole, it’s just as important to exercise your body as it is to exercise your brain.”

This was the teacher in Grade 9 who was both my math teacher and my gym teacher. At the time, I seemed like a serious academic student. I did well in math (and dropped it the next year, go figure) but I may as well have worn a sign that said, “How soon can I get out of gym class?”

Those words from that gym teacher have replayed in my brain many times over the years.

Along the way, I have become more aligned with the gym junkies than the math mavens. I don’t need convincing about the benefits of fitness.

When I was at a recent gerontologist visit with my Dad, the Dr. was impressing on my Dad the importance of going to the exercise classes offered at his seniors’ home. He often doesn’t feel like going and opts for a nap. The Dr. was explaining to him how clear the research is on the importance of exercise on brain health. I’m not sure how long it will motivate my Dad in going to his class, more often, but I have been reminded more than once, while with my ailing Mom, before she died and with my Dad in his seniors’ home, how important basic fitness is throughout one’s life. It doesn’t go away.

What simple wisdom did you hear when you were young that still resonates?

Everyone is talking. No one is listening.

People are hungry. Others are throwing out good food, not perfect.

The streetcar is a homeless shelter.

There’s no pipeline to get people to work. 

There’s a pipeline to be built across Canada. Some of it is not approved. 

There’s smoke. There’s hurricanes. 

There’s a quiet, AI-driven car. 

Subways are empty.

But look at the team spirit, on display. 

Politicians are working on it. 

Go get counselling.

That place has a 2 year wait.

Go get a job.

100 people apply in a minute online.

AI picks the right candidate.

Forests will burn again this year. 

People will lose their temper in the wrong place.

People will wonder why.

You need a doctor? Start your engines. it’s going to be a puzzling game to find one.

There are wars oversees people are sure about

No one’s sure how to help people get shelter, a clean seat on the subway to work.

We walk to work over needles discarded.

People discarded.

Oh, look at that new top for purchase that will be shipped from overseas and arrive in a few days.

It will look so cute.

She’s on hold for the doctor. 

He’s waiting for a secure home.

All levels of government care. 

But do they? Do we?

Make the best of it. Bring your best self.. to work…to the food line. 

Use your refillable water bottle.

Be kind.

Assert yourself.

Exercise.

Not too much.

Not that way. Don’t worry if it works for you.

This is the trend.

Did you hear about the money embezzled by that water bottle CEO?

Look at that beautiful pastry.

How much protein does it contain?

Everyone is hungry.

There are no resources.

Check out this new cool gadget. 

Buy it. It will help the economy.

Not your economy.

Breathe.

Not that way. 

You don’t want to end up in the hospital.

Go to work.

Not that way.

Do your job.

Not that way. 

People are suffering.

The banks and corporations need you. 

What can YOU do to make things better?

Mind: Mom was very sick for over a year. She was given 1-3 months and blew that prognosis out of the water. She wasn’t herself anymore.

Body: You may think you’ve slept enough but I am tired.

Mind: It will be hard but I had all this anticipatory grief. Maybe it will be easier.

Body: OK, you want to go for a run. Just don’t expect me to breath normally or go as far as usual.

Mind: She was wasting away. I saw her body shut down, bit by bit.

Body: The person who birthed you, watched over you, cared for you, thought about you, like no one else, is not physically here anymore. Let’s sit fixed to the couch a bit longer.

Mind: I have been with two Aunts when they died. I sat with them and witnessed their last breath. This isn’t new.

Body: Was that real? Was that week real? I feel a bit nauseous.

Mind: Her soul left her body. I saw it with my own eyes.

Body: It’s 2pm and I can’t keep my eyes open.

Mind: Mom had a good life. She was so loved. So many people said how much she acted as a Mom or Grandmother force in their lives.

Body: MY Mom is gone. OK, let’s lift some weights and move some energy around.

Mind: Body when will you meet me in the middle?

Body: When I’m ready. Be patient.