Mens sana in corpore sano.

It all started by a brilliant suggestion. I was fruitlessly looking for a job, sending my CV to every open position in any legal department, and figuring out, with hope and fear, how much my life would change in case I’d be successful. I had spent the last two years, either in maternity leave or transition year for our move overseas, and now it was time to come back to work.

I was close sometimes, others not even replied. I wanted to believe it was the weight of the gap in my cv, but not the fact that my professional life could not be interesting, or worse, that, after all those years of quite an impressive professional ascension, someone may think that I was not skilled enough. I tried to comfort myself thinking that maybe the reason was that, in Spain, you don’t looked committed enough when you have left your work aside for a couple of years. This country is still quite behind regarding conciliation, women at work and maternity leave -as most of them, let's be frank here. Whatever the reason was, for the first time in my life, I wasn’t called back. And, although it buys you extra time with your kids –be always optimistic-, it hurts.

So, Mr. Right asked me, why don’t you start doing some exercise? You will soon find a job (what a sweetheart!) and you will regret not using all the free time you have now to get fit. Fair enough. That was how I started and, I must say the exercise helped me greatly healing all my homesickness.

So I started in a little gym, cosy and so well staffed. I took my exercise routine seriously. I was running, I was working out, I was giving it the most of myself, sweating my pains away. For the first time in my life, I was actually looking forward to going to the gym, putting my trainers on and going for it. And so, I did.

It’s been eighteen months now.

It has its perks, you know. Let’s allow vanity intrude here. I look at myself in the mirror and I like what I see. I am over forty, being pregnant three times, and I wish I had this body back in my twenties. Defined, toned and damn hard! I feel super proud because I never thought it would be me the one with the nice body. I’ve been always more the kind of girl with a pretty face and a nice smile.

But it’s not just that, it’s not only that you look good and that helps feeling good. What it’s really important is that I feel immensely proud because after decades of wasting monthly the cost of my gym’s fee, I finally committed to it and conquered it. And that makes me feel powerful and at the same time satisfied that, at least all the time I’ve been adjusting, was not a totally waste of time and energy.

I can not take all the credit, though. This time I did not do this alone. Once a week I had a personal trainer by my side. I never thought I would need one and it felt really spoiled but this was the key to success. They were pushing my limits higher, and constantly repeating me that I could do it, and –whatever is more important- probing themselves right!!

Really, if you are low, put a PT in your life, all this positive feedback works wonders in everyone; I will take them home, so they coach me for the rest of my day. Furthermore, and this is a real treat, they LISTEN to you! Poor people, there is not much choice for them, I must say. They are stuck with you for an hour with no escape line. Only way to keep your mouth shut is increasing the weight and reps till you’re breathless. In my case, they must almost torment me to agony!!

But even if they do, it is FUN pain! It's not torture like all those lessons with my old style P.E. teacher, whose technics were more mocking us and calling us names. I have enjoyed and still do, every session and as well, leaving the gym, noticing that my head works better, with much more clarity and calmness.

Can you get a better deal?