The beginning of 2026 feels intense, weird, and shifty. I think we’re all wondering what is going to happen globally as we see the news come in from Venezuela, the USA, and Iran.

Lately, I’ve been reminding myself that showing up is half the battle, especially when everything feels heavy.

Earlier this week, I was having a delicious cup of hot chocolate and a slice of tiramisu at Eataly with a friend. We like to do long walks and finish off with ice cream or something hot, depending on mood. It’s our ritual. We catch up and talk about life and the goings on.

Somewhere between the hot chocolate and the conversation, we landed on how off balance things feel right now. Social media especially feels split into two camps. There are a significant number of folks all about the January “lock in”: fitness, diets, journaling, ice baths, 10,000 steps. Then there’s another group carrying grief, fighting for their neighbours and their communities. People who are putting their bodies on the line to make the future better for everyone.

2026. YOU JUST GOT HERE!

And honestly, it’s a lot to walk into.

I have to admit that the first week of this year has not been easy. I’m trying to balance two versions of myself: the one that wants to know everything that’s happening in the world and figure out ways to support communities, and the other that has to reckon with my mental, emotional, and, more importantly, physical needs.

I am going through perimenopause. I have PCOS, adenomyosis, and a failing gallbladder that has to be removed this year (more on that in a later post). I have wonky knees (thanks, Lil Jon!) and a weirdly itchy neck thanks to night sweats. I’m doing my best, y’all. Truly. And I’m trying my hardest to carry everything.

So this year, my version of “locking in” has looked a little different.

For me, it’s been about staying informed and staying present in my body. Reading about what’s happening, but also thinking about my health and finding ways to fuel myself with things that will actually do me good, and moving my body every day, even when I don’t feel like it.

I primarily work out at Ferris360, and I have a fantastic coach there, Maja. But this week, I was sleepy from doomscrolling, and in the middle of a workout, I wanted to quit. My body was tired. My brain was exhausted. And suddenly, this whole scene from Bond started playing in my head.

All this running around, Mr. Bond? All this jumping and fighting? It’s exhausting!

And… yes. Exactly.

Why am I here? What are we all training for? Why all this picking up, pushing, running, lifting? Is there an apocalypse coming? Maybe it’s best not to survive the first wave. Also, no one even asked us to lock in (screams inside!).

But jokes aside, this is usually where things get hard for me.

It’s always tough being the slowest and worst in the room. You see it. You feel it in your bones. My body takes up space. My chubby parts are in the way. I’m pushing at 100, but that’s someone else’s 50. I don’t compare to even half the people I work out with weekly. I’m trying, slowly, to get better at not comparing.

Showing Up Is Half the Battle

What has helped me immensely over the past year, especially after a truly hellish 2024, is remembering that showing up is half the battle, even when I don’t feel ready.

Years ago, one of my professors noticed I was struggling and failing in my genetics course. She told me that after class one day. It was a rough go. I ended up with the only C in my undergrad career. It was my worst grade, and the one I’m most proud of. I showed up. And slowly, it got better.

Since February 2025, showing up,  even when I really didn’t want to,  has had real benefits. I’ve made some friends. I’ve gotten stronger and a little faster. My knees are less wonky than when I started. I sleep better on most days. And my mental health has honestly never been better.

I even kind of enjoy waking up early and watching the sun come up on my way to the gym.

Just before Christmas, I hit a personal record: a 203-pound deadlift. I’m still a little proud of that one.

But I get it. Showing up isn’t easy. And it helps to have people in your corner who are actually supportive.

As a big girl who’s been laughed at in gyms, sneered at in yoga studios, and had eyes rolled at her in spin classes, my biggest piece of advice if you want to start showing up is this: take a studio tour.

I do this in every city I’m in. I get a ClassPass membership (this post is not sponsored), tour studios close to home (because proximity matters, and I get lazy), and check out their classes. If something makes me uneasy or uncomfortable, I don’t go back. There’s a Pilates studio across from my apartment that I would never set foot in again after an awful experience there.

The three things I always look for are: support — do instructors offer real modifications for different bodies; space — is there enough room to move comfortably and safely; and vibes — are the people there kind, decent human beings? If it ticks all three, I’m good.

I’ve been doing this for a while now, and here are some spaces I’ve genuinely enjoyed working out in:

• Ferris360 — Strong sense of community, thoughtful coaching, and a place where different bodies are actually supported.
• Jaybird — Calm, candlelit spaces with instructors who pay attention and care; challenging but grounding.
• Heather Robertson (online) — Accessible, no-nonsense workouts with clear modifications for days when leaving the house feels like too much.
• Loft Fitness — Friendly, welcoming team and good energy, even if spin wasn’t for my crotch.
• YYOGA — Inclusive, steady instruction and flow classes that made movement feel possible again.

(If you want more details on any of these, I’m always happy to share, just send me a note).

A small note: outside of ClassPass, many studios also offer trial classes. Take advantage of those when you can. ClassPass is great, but supporting local businesses is even better. Once you find a place you like, consider buying a membership directly from them.

I hope the rest of January 2026 is a gentler one for all of us.

After all these years, from my opinionated twenties to this less sprightly version of my forties, I keep coming back to the same truth: showing up is half the battle, and some days, it’s the only part I can manage.

I hope you do the same and keep showing up for yourself, in whatever way you can. You deserve care, too.