Nobody Told Me Lifting Weights Would Change Everything
I started lifting weights years ago, long before menopause was part of the conversation. At the time, I enjoyed the feeling of getting stronger and seeing what my body could do. Once I began looking properly at the effect changing hormones could have on my body, lifting became even more important to me.
As oestrogen levels fall, bone density can decrease more quickly and it becomes easier to lose muscle and strength. I had always thought of lifting as exercise, but now I understood it as something I was doing for my future. The weights were not only about what I could lift in the gym. They were helping me protect my bones, maintain my muscle and hold on to my independence.
I am strong, although you wouldn’t necessarily know it to look at me. I’m not jacked and I don’t walk around looking as though I spend my life in the gym, but I can comfortably deadlift 50 kilograms. I’m proud of that, not because it sounds impressive, but because of what that strength allows me to do outside the gym.
It means I can hike without worrying that my body won’t manage it. I can carry what needs carrying and do things for myself without automatically looking around for help. I can plan adventures based on whether I want to do them, rather than whether I’m physically capable. For me, strength is tied to freedom, and I want to hold on to both for as long as I can.
Lifting also makes me feel good. Physical activity has long-term benefits for the heart, brain and mental health, but the immediate effect matters too. I leave the gym feeling better than when I walked in. My head is clearer, my mood is better and there is something deeply satisfying about doing a difficult thing with my own body.
I know the gym can feel intimidating. Walking into a room filled with unfamiliar machines, heavy weights and people who appear to know exactly what they are doing can make you feel as though you don’t belong there. I have felt that fear, but my actual experience of the gym has been nothing but supportive.
Most people are focused on their own workout, not watching yours. When I have needed help, I have found people willing to explain a machine, check something for me or offer encouragement. The frightening gym environment I had imagined was not the one I found when I walked through the door.
There is also no single correct way to begin. Some people will feel comfortable learning for themselves, and there is a wealth of free information online. Good demonstrations can help you understand the basic movements and build confidence before you ever enter a gym. Technique matters, so the source matters too, but you do not need to arrive knowing everything.
A personal trainer can help if you want individual guidance, particularly when you are learning how to lift safely. A local bootcamp or strength class can offer instruction and the reassurance of starting alongside other people. You can use machines, free weights, resistance bands or your own body weight. The starting point matters far less than starting.
I’m not lifting because I’m trying to become a bodybuilder. I’m lifting because I want a body that continues to work for me. I want strong legs that can carry me up a hill, strong arms that can lift my own bag and a strong back that supports me through the life I still intend to live.
Strength training cannot guarantee perfect health, and none of us can control everything that comes with ageing. It can, however, help protect our bones and muscles, support our heart and brain health, and reduce the risk of becoming frail. This is not about living forever. It is about giving ourselves a better chance of living well and independently for longer.
Nobody told me lifting weights would change everything. Nobody told me that the greatest result would not be visible in a mirror.
I started because I wanted to feel stronger. I continue because strength gives me choices.
The important thing is to begin. Start with what you can manage, learn as you go and allow yourself to take up space in the room. You do belong there.
Your future self may be very glad you walked through the door.
