Confession: Gyms intimidate me. Trainers intimidate me. Weight machines intimidate me. Or at least they did . I was the girl in the last row of the spin class or hidden in the corner of bootcamp, desperate to be invisible. Working out was a necessity—for my health, both physically and mentally—but the daunting task of just doing it and wading through my insecurities left me stuck in a never ending cycle of a stop-start fitness routine. At the end of the very, very tough two weeks, I lost six pounds and two inches off my waist. Things changed a little when I challenged myself to run the New York City Marathon last November. For four months, I ran at least three times a week (towards the end that meant up to 18 miles at once!). As expected, I crossed the finish line with a "“You are THAT bitch!” mentaility, but my back and knees were a wreck from overcompensating because I pushed my body without having built muscle support. Then, I didn’t workout for a whole month. As a ...
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