How Weightlifting After 40 Transformed My Food and Body Connection

Content note: This article discusses experiences with disordered eating and an unhealthy exercise mindset. Please read mindfully if these subjects are triggering for you. During my twenties, I maintained an intense workout routine. I went running multiple days each week, always striving to shave of

Content note: This article discusses experiences with disordered eating and an unhealthy exercise mindset. Please read mindfully if these subjects are triggering for you.

During my twenties, I maintained an intense workout routine. I went running multiple days each week, always striving to shave off a few seconds from my previous times. In addition to attending several high-intensity yoga sessions weekly, my personal home yoga routines mirrored that vigorous style. Back in my early twenties while residing in New York City, I did have a gym membership, but I primarily stuck to the cardiovascular machines—treadmills, ellipticals, and even the StairMaster whenever it was my only option. I steered clear of the weightlifting equipment because I felt awkward figuring them out on my own and was hesitant to seek assistance from staff.

Reflecting on that period now, I realize that all my exercise efforts were not directed toward building strength. Rather, my goal was solely to shrink my body size.

This mindset prevailed during the mid-to-late 2000s, an era when public figures faced harsh scrutiny for their bodies. For instance, Jessica Simpson was mockingly dubbed 'Jumbo Jessica' simply for wearing high-waisted jeans while being a size 4, and Tyra Banks labeled a size 6 contestant on the reality series America's Next Top Model as 'plus size.'

My preference for cardio and yoga was undoubtedly influenced by society's obsession with thinness, though I had been grappling with those pressures long before those high-profile incidents gained media attention.

I've always cherished physical movement. As a child, I began dance lessons, and I occasionally joined my mom for Jane Fonda workout videos. Throughout high school, I continued dancing and also played on the volleyball team. That's when I picked up running, using it both as a stress reliever and for its fitness advantages. In college, I discovered yoga and quickly became a regular at local classes.

Underfueling an Active Body

One might assume that my high level of physical activity meant I fueled myself like a true athlete—but the reality was quite the opposite. Although I truly loved the various activities I engaged in, a significant motivation behind them was maintaining a thin physique.

Consequently, I chronically undernourished myself, restricting calorie intake even as I demanded peak performance from my body through intense sessions.

This approach succeeded in one narrow sense: I did reduce my body size. However, the costs were steep—I suffered from dull, problematic skin, fragile nails, intermittent heart flutters, and frequent bouts of dizziness that left me on the verge of passing out. Hunger was a constant companion, yet I suppressed it rigidly, all in the name of achieving thinness.

Postpartum Strength and a Turning Point

The concept of true strength didn't enter my consciousness until after the birth of my first child. Before pregnancy, I considered myself sufficiently strong—I could jog six miles without issue, execute a handstand, and sustain advanced yoga postures for extended durations. Yet, postpartum, those accomplishments felt meaningless in terms of strength. Having nurtured a human life inside me and then delivered her, my body felt destabilized, shaky, and achy all over. Moreover, I was perpetually famished, as breastfeeding demands caloric output comparable to an endurance athletic event.

Since my go-to exercises of yoga and running no longer suited me, I ventured into strength training as an alternative.

My initial foray into strength work came via high-intensity interval training (HIIT) classes, which incorporated some cardio elements, but I also began incorporating handheld dumbbells. For the first time in ages—or at least since childbirth—I experienced a profound sense of empowerment.

At the same time, I recognized that my pattern of low-calorie intake paired with high-intensity efforts was no longer sustainable.

HIIT days left me overwhelmingly hungry, prompting me to increase my food intake on those occasions to match the elevated energy demands. On non-HIIT days, however, I continued calorie restriction, resulting in erratic eating patterns that remained far from optimal for health.

This feast-or-famine approach is unfortunately widespread, often stemming from diet culture's pervasive notion that food must be 'earned' through exertion. In truth, my body required substantially more nourishment than I provided—even on weightlifting days. I hadn't yet grasped the essentials of properly fueling muscle growth or recovery.

Nevertheless, this marked a crucial initial shift toward fostering healthier attitudes toward nutrition, my physical form, and movement. Breaking free from these ingrained habits took years, as diet culture's influence is pervasive and persistent.

Choosing Strength in Midlife

As I transitioned into my forties, a key realization emerged: I aspire to cultivate genuine strength for the years ahead. I reject the stereotypical narrative of aging where unexplained pains dominate daily life, and relying on painkillers like Advil becomes routine just to get through the day. Equally, I no longer wish to expend energy endlessly pursuing a thinner silhouette or lamenting my appearance.

Though I can't recall the precise instant when my perspectives on food and exercise fundamentally evolved, committing to heavy weightlifting clarified the need for dietary changes.

Heavy lifting offers numerous advantages, but the ones I value most include muscle development and enhanced bone density. While lighter weights with more repetitions can achieve these goals, the process is slower, and I lack the time for prolonged daily workouts.

Fundamentally, constructing muscle and fortifying bones demands adequate caloric intake. Restricting food undermines strength gains.

Moreover, attempting to hoist weights exceeding your body mass becomes nearly impossible when you're running on empty.

Learning to Fuel for Strength

Once I committed to consistent heavy lifting, I observed not only heightened appetite on training days but an overall increase in hunger throughout the week.

This sensation was intuitively right yet simultaneously daunting. Despite extensive personal work on health and body acceptance, human insecurities linger. I inherently understood my body craved more sustenance—particularly protein, given my plant-based eating habits where it hadn't been a focal point. Still, anxiety loomed over potential body composition shifts from increased eating.

Society often judges worth and character by physical appearance, especially for women. Intellectually embracing that size doesn't dictate health or capability is simpler than embodying it daily.

Ultimately, the pursuit of strength outweighed those fears, and it remains my guiding principle.

Drawing from my background with disordered eating patterns, I opted against rigid tracking of macronutrients, precise food weighing, or obsessive protein counting. My strategy centered on tuning into bodily cues and selecting nourishing, intuitive choices.

I did elevate my attention to protein sources modestly, without fanaticism. The current protein obsession is overblown; no need for gimmicky products like protein-infused snacks endorsed by celebrities. Simply incorporating protein into each meal proved practical and effective.

Some workout days, I eat beforehand; others, I train fasted based on preference. I prioritize a substantial lunch and respond to snack urges promptly.

A faint inner critic still occasionally whispers to undereat or forgo treats, but I routinely dismiss it. I qualify this as 'routinely' since perfection eludes us all. Crucially, I've abandoned the belief that calories require earning or that exercise serves to diminish my size.

Strength, Confidence, and Aging Well

Over the past year of dedicated barbell training and heavy lifts, I've never felt more at ease in my body. Unlike many peers at my age of 44, I rarely deal with nagging aches or pains. I attend three dance classes weekly, moving with assurance alongside women decades younger. My strength surpasses what I possessed in my twenties, even accounting for three pregnancies.

My focus on aesthetics has diminished significantly, replaced by deep appreciation for my body's capabilities.