I climbed on my Peloton treadmill tonight (yes, I know that’s the whitest mom shit I’ve ever said but it’s who I am. I own that). My name on there is Fittestbyforty. I turn 38 in January… I giggled to myself because now my goal is #divorcedbyforty. I guess the goals could be one in the same.

2 ish years ago in a bout of boredom I decided I was going to become a personal trainer. I did the classes, I passed the test, I got my certification. I never used it, I started an internship at a gym and then found out I was pregnant with my youngest. It’s hard to be motivated to work out when you feel like shit all the time, let alone train other people. So that fell by the wayside. I was also diagnosed with ADHD last year so abandoned projects just make sense now. I digress.

When my youngest tried to murder me not once but 3 times during childbirth afterward I kind of fell into a depression. I also started realizing how utterly useless my husband was, immediately going back to work after my 2nd c-section and near death experience because he chose to. I quickly became what I felt was unhealthy. At least for me. Thus began fittest by 40. I trained for my first marathon last year and did CrossFit for awhile. However, as I’ve stated before I live with someone who is always working against me. If I feel like shit about myself I won’t leave, right? That’s the logic of a narcissist.

So in an act of rebellion I’ve been making sure I workout daily even when he makes it impossible. 4am or 7pm doesn’t matter to me at this point… just as long as I’m living on my terms. And that’s how I intend to spend the next year… on my terms. Reconnecting with the self he buried. I used to think he “stole” it… but she’s still her and she’s feeling safer to exist.

Fittestbyforty and divorcedbyforty are one in the same and they will both happen.