How often do you look at something another woman is doing and immediately think, "I could not do that. No way. It's not happening."
She's lifting weights, walking into the gym like she knows exactly where she's going, and you think, good for her. But that is definitely not me. Decision made.
But you don't know what her first workout looked like. You don't know who helped her or how long she's been doing it. You're comparing her now to your before-you've-even-started. If you're a woman over 40 who keeps saying "I know I should start strength training, but I could never do that," this one is for you.
"I could never do that." Based on what?
Funny story. A video of me showing one of my clients how to do some rows went back and forth between us, and I was just using the weights I would usually use. She was giggling: here I come with who knows how many pounds, and here she is with her eight-pound dumbbells. "No, I'm not lifting that weight."
I've been stepping outside my comfort zone recently (one hundred percent scary), and I've noticed that I can have a whole opinion about what I'm capable of before I've even tried something.
I chose to fast as part of my faith. I remember the pastor at our church talking about doing a fast, and his seemed so extreme to me that I thought, no, can't even think about that. I could never do that. I was so judgmental.
I'm sharing this as part of my faith story, not as a recommendation for you to fast. (Fasting to lose weight? I would have been a disaster.) What surprised me was how much I noticed about myself along the way.
It reminded me of my parents. When I was younger and running marathons, they always said, "We could never do that." They said that until I convinced them to walk a half marathon with me.
And guess what? They did it. They killed it.
Here are three lessons from leaving my comfort zone that can help you start strength training. Not think about starting. Actually start. Because "I could never do that" deserves a little more investigation before we let it decide everything.
Lesson 1: You don't have to figure out strength training on your own
One of the biggest things for me was that I kept coming back to God. It wasn't one prayer and then suddenly I had it all figured out. I was learning to depend on Him while I was still really uncomfortable. And God showed up for me in a way I couldn't have imagined.
How often do we decide we can't do something because we imagine figuring it out completely on our own? I hear this around strength training all the time. You don't know what exercises to do. You aren't sure what weight to choose. You don't know if you're doing the move correctly. So you think, I can't do this.
But those are things you can get help learning. You can have someone write the workout for you. Ask a trainer to show you how to adjust a machine. You can tell your coach, "I watched the video, but I still don't understand what I'm supposed to do." Please tell us. Most people didn't take it in the first time around either.
I still need this, too. In CrossFit, toes-to-bar just kill me. I have an excellent coach who has told me what to fix over and over and over again. Then someone else walks up and says, "Oh hey, you should do this," and I'm like, wow, that was a magical cue. Except my coach was already saying it. I just needed to hear it in a different way, or my brain needed to be ready for it.
You haven't failed at strength training because you need somebody to teach you how to strength train. That's a very reasonable place to begin.
So ask yourself: What help am I assuming I'm supposed to do without?
Lesson 2: Feeling uncomfortable shows you what's driving your decisions
I noticed how often I wanted people to understand what I was doing. I wanted to explain myself. When I paid attention to why, I realized some of it was about wanting the attention on me. My ego. That was uncomfortable to notice. And then I realized: they don't need to know. The focus belonged back on God. He is the one who has given me a body that can do these things. It's Him, not me.
What I needed to pay attention to was how much room other people's opinions were taking up in my thoughts. I'd even tell you I don't care what other people think. But if we're completely honest, at some point we do.
And that shows up in strength training, too. Maybe you choose a weight and worry it looks too light. You don't ask a question because you'd rather look like you already know what you're doing. You avoid an exercise because you don't want anybody to see you figuring it out.
Those moments are useful information. Is the exercise the problem? Or the idea of looking new in front of somebody?
Because you're allowed to be new. You can say, "I haven't done this before. Can you show me how?"
The woman beside you might be lifting something heavier. Okay. She's doing her workout. You're doing yours.
Sometimes trying the workout is how you find out what you actually need. You might finish and think, I liked that once I understood it. The part I didn't like was feeling lost. Now we have something specific to work on, something you'd never learn sitting at home imagining it.
Lesson 3: Starting doesn't make every doubtful thought disappear
Once I had started, I still had thoughts about stopping. Well, I've done some of it. Maybe that was enough. Those thoughts came back more than once. I had taken the first step, and my mind was still offering me a way out.
We expect that once we begin, we'll feel so good we'll keep going no matter what. But you might finish and think, well, that was awkward. I had to ask a lot of questions.
Or the next workout shows up on your calendar and suddenly your brain has a whole list of other things you could do instead. For me? My house. I don't even like cleaning, but it has never needed cleaning quite as urgently as when I have something else I'm supposed to be doing.
A thought about stopping doesn't settle what you do next. It's a chance to look at what's going on:
Are you confused about the workout?
Does the schedule need adjusting?
Did the first session feel like too much, so you need a different starting point?
Or are you feeling the awkwardness of doing something you just haven't done much before?
Understanding which one is yours helps you decide what would actually help.
When I say uncomfortable, I mean feeling new or letting someone see you learning. Pain or health concerns deserve appropriate attention. You can take your circumstances seriously and still question the conclusion that you're incapable of strength training.
You'll probably still doubt yourself sometimes. But you can learn how to respond when those thoughts show up.
Before you decide you can't start strength training, finish this sentence
"I don't think I can start strength training because…"
What comes next?
If it's I don't know what to do, let's find you some guidance.
If it's I'm afraid of looking silly, let's talk about what would help you feel more comfortable learning.
If it's I've started before and stopped, and life got in the way, let's look at what happened and what you'd need this time to make it work.
Then choose one step you can actually take this week. Message a coach. Book a walk-through. Ask someone to explain the first workout in your plan. Make it specific enough that you know exactly what you're doing next.
Stepping outside my comfort zone brought me back to God again and again, and showed me things about myself I wouldn't have noticed otherwise. Give yourself room to discover what's possible for you, too. Your starting point can fit your body, your circumstances, and the help you need.
Before you write yourself off, try asking: "What help am I assuming I'm supposed to do without?"
We start small, but we don't stay small. Sometimes the small thing is simply saying, "I haven't learned how to do this yet."
