Fitness is a very personal space.  And not just because of form-fitting clothes and tightly-packed cycling studios.  It’s a place where we each have to come to terms with what we are now, which inevitably triggers thoughts of what we were then or how far we are from where we want to be–with the weight of our bodies, the power of our will, our physical strength or lack thereof and maybe even just our jean size.

For me, each of my long-term relationships has come hand-in-hand with the rotation of a specific pair of “fat” jeans toward the front of my closet.  They’re old but semi “designer” (Citizens for Humanity) and they never see the light of day when I’m single.  (Here they are and note that I’m also hiding behind my bag, which is a tactic that I’ve frequently employed when madly in love.)

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It’s not that I’ve ever stopped working out, entirely, because I haven’t. My boyfriends have always been sporty types who share my love of running, biking, baseball, the beach and walking endlessly around the city.

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It’s just that when I’m in a relationship, I tend to completely lose sight of my own routine when it comes to exercise, sleep and eating. Hardcore cycling classes get replaced by a few minutes on the elliptical, salads become steaks and the occasional dessert becomes an evening affair right before bed. And, as happy as I have been with the other person in those relationships, I haven’t been happy with myself. For me, “I” rarely comes before “us.”

Dating in New York can be a full-time job. In fact, it’s almost like playing professional baseball. Where are you in the lineup, did you strike out, knock it out of the park and are you the one consistently saving the game? Performance on a date or in a new relationship can be analyzed in a million ways, there could practically be a score card.

I’ve spent hours over the past year boxing, climbing and kicking major butt on the bike, largely in part to build this blog. I’ve really challenged myself (and changed my body) in order to create something to share with–and inspire–you. And, I’m not giving that back.

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And, while I know that I’ll always have to work for my abs, regardless of my relationship status (that’s just my genetics), I also know now that when I do find the right guy, I’ll never again need to look back.

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Are you where you want to be? How do you balance work, life, love and your fitness level?

Photos by Mariana Zenteno Photography, Shante Carlan Photography & Lindsay M. Koffler Photography.

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