Home / Fitness / Skinny does not mean STRONG

 

If I had a dime for every time I heard “I bet you have been doing push-ups on your toes forever,” or “pull-ups must come easy for you,” or “running is one of your strengths,” my reply for each of these statements would be NO, NO and NO!

If you knew me in high school or in my twenties, I looked a little different than I do today. My nicknames were “Bones” and “Twiggy.” At the time I tolerated these nicknames because I accepted having frail arms and legs. The thought of lifting more than 3-5 pound weights was something that never crossed my mind. The idea of weighing more than 100-114 pounds was daunting. The notion of being STRONG was foreign to me.

I will never forget taking my first boot camp after my second child was born. We were instructed to do 10-15 push-ups at a time. As I looked around me, most men and women were on their toes. I was on my knees. My goal over that next month or so was to make a change and become STRONG. I worked hard and continue to work hard to stay on my toes.

The joke in my softball days was whether or not I could get grass on the softball during a game. Oftentimes they knew “Bones” was only good for a bunt, so that became my forte. Looking back it ticks me off. Had I only worked harder to gain strength, I could have actually hit the ball; which led to me being motivated to complete my first unassisted pull-up when I was 30 years old. Besides my wedding day (I might take that back since I married a Cardinal fan), it might have been one of the greatest days of my life. Not because I did the pull-up, but because I was STRONG! If I could go back and smack the crap out of that softball, I would do it in a heartbeat.

My junior year of high school I allowed my best friend to convince me to run track. Let me be completely honest, I hated every damn minute of our practices. I always chose the shortest distances because I knew in less than 30 seconds the pain would be over. I will never forget running a 600 meter sprint and wanted to die; literally. It wasn’t until after I had my last child that I decided I could not let those memories continue to haunt me. I decided to conquer my fear and train for a half marathon. I gave myself six weeks of hellish training and ran that dreaded 13.1 miles. I was not fast, but STRONG enough to finish.

I cannot erase the past, but can work hard to be my best in the present. My love for muscle definition far outweighs any desire to be skinny. My scale has not seen anything under 120 pounds since 2014. I accept and embrace the word, STRONG!!

 

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Written By:  Jennifer Knuth, Certified Personal Trainer

 
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