I went back and forth for a while about whether I even wanted to share this. Weight, body image, fat loss — those topics can be loaded. They can bring up comparison, insecurity, and judgment. I know that. I’ve felt that. But at some point, I realized that keeping this story to myself wasn’t helping anyone, so here it is.

At 48 years old, I stepped on stage for a natural bodybuilding competition after losing 60 pounds. That number still feels strange to say out loud. What feels even stranger is how quietly the weight came on in the first place.

I had competed in bodybuilding before — in 2013, 2015, and 2017. Each time, I told myself I’d improve the next time. I wanted to be better, leaner, sharper. But by 2017, I was exhausted. Competing had become more frustrating than fulfilling, and I decided I was done. That same year I turned 40, and over the next several years, my weight slowly crept up. Five pounds here. Eight pounds there. A few more the next year. Nothing dramatic enough to force a reaction, but enough that if you zoomed out, the trend was obvious.

I tracked my weight during those years, so I watched it happen. But I also told myself a story about it. I convinced myself that this was just what happens to women in their 40s. Hormones shift. Metabolism slows. Midlife weight gain is normal. I accepted it as inevitable instead of optional.

Then January 2023 changed everything.

I was hiking, something I’ve always loved. That morning I had weighed myself because I had just started the 75 Hard challenge, and daily check-ins were part of it. I was the heaviest I had ever been. At the same time, I was extremely fit. I had recently hiked rim-to-rim in the Grand Canyon — 24 miles in one day. I was strong, capable, and active. But I was carrying more weight than I ever had.

About halfway into that hike, I fell and broke my tibia and fibula completely in half. I had to be airlifted off the mountain.

It was one of those moments where time slows down and you realize you’re about to go through something whether you want to or not. Recovery was going to take time. Physical therapy. Starting from scratch in some ways. But even in that moment, I knew one thing clearly: I was coming back. I didn’t know yet whether that meant another bodybuilding competition, but I knew I wasn’t going to let that injury define the next chapter of my life.

After months of rehab and rebuilding, I started hiking again. I was grateful just to be moving. But I also started noticing that if I were lighter, I could move faster and more efficiently. Around the same time, I was finishing up an asthma management program through my health insurance. I had done everything they asked except one thing: lose weight. That piece was still unfinished.

In April 2024, I made a decision. Not a vague intention, not a “we’ll see how it goes,” but a real decision. I gave myself a year. My original goal was to lose 50 pounds. Between April and December, I lost about 18 pounds. It wasn’t dramatic, but it was steady. Then in December 2024, I made another decision — I was going to compete again.

That’s when things tightened up. Over about 11 months, from December to November, I lost 42 pounds. Altogether, it totaled 60. But the number isn’t really the story. The story is what changed in me to make that possible.

The biggest shift was accountability. I tracked my food. I know tracking isn’t popular in every corner of the internet. Some people hate it. That’s fine. I’m not here to argue about it. I’m here to tell you it worked for me. Tracking forced me to look at what I was actually doing, not what I thought I was doing.

I work from home. Snacks were always within reach. A handful of something here, a few bites of something there — it adds up faster than you think. Wine was another one. I love wine. A good Malbec is one of my favorite things. But when I started logging it, I had to confront the reality that it was contributing calories without contributing anything meaningful toward my goals. It also wrecked my sleep. Seeing it in black and white made it harder to justify.

Tracking wasn’t about perfection. It was about visibility. You can’t adjust what you refuse to see.

Weighing myself was another piece of that accountability. I’m 5’10”, and I can fluctuate 25 to 30 pounds without changing pant sizes. If I waited until my clothes felt tight, I was already well into the gain. The scale became data — not a judgment. Some mornings the number went up and it frustrated me. But instead of spiraling, I zoomed out. Hormones fluctuate. Water retention fluctuates. Sodium intake fluctuates. Over time, the trend told the truth. I also used a tape measure, which taught me that I tend to lose body fat from the top down. That awareness helped me stay patient when the scale stalled.

Movement became non-negotiable. That didn’t mean every day was intense. Some days were heavy lifting sessions. Some days were yoga. Some days were long walks. But I moved every day. I gradually worked my way back into a traditional bodybuilding split — legs, push, pull, full body — but I didn’t start there. I built up to it. Consistency mattered more than intensity in the beginning.

Yoga played a deeper role than I expected. It wasn’t about burning calories. It was about mindfulness. I had to confront the way I was speaking to myself. I would never talk to another person the way I talked to myself in the mirror. Yoga helped me stay present instead of spiraling into shame about the past or anxiety about the future. It grounded me in what I could do that day.

My diet became simple and structured. I aimed for about 150 grams of protein per day, knowing I wouldn’t hit it perfectly every time. Meals centered around protein, vegetables, and healthy fats. Chicken, turkey, fish, egg whites, berries, avocados, nuts. I wasn’t extreme. I still occasionally had a burger and fries. But it was intentional and infrequent, not mindless and nightly.

Hydration was another quiet but powerful shift. Living in Arizona, hiking, and training regularly meant I needed to pay attention to water intake. I aimed for around a gallon a day. More than once, I realized what felt like hunger was actually thirst. Drinking water first and waiting before reaching for food made a noticeable difference.

When people ask me what the “secret” was, I think they’re often disappointed by the answer. There wasn’t one dramatic moment or revolutionary tactic. It was a series of decisions made over and over again. I taped photos of bodybuilding poses to my bathroom mirror so I saw my goal every morning. I left workout plans in plain sight. I kept reminders visible. Not because I was always motivated, but because I wasn’t.

Motivation is unreliable. Decision is stronger.

There are some things in life you cannot delegate. You cannot outsource your workouts. You cannot outsource your discipline. You cannot outsource your health. If it’s your goal, it’s your responsibility to show up for it.

At 48, stepping on that stage wasn’t about proving anything to anyone else. It was about proving to myself that I could decide and follow through. Sixty pounds didn’t come off because of one perfect week. It came off because of hundreds of ordinary days where I chose to align my actions with my goal.

That’s the real transformation.

Not just the body, but the identity of someone who does what she says she’s going to do.

00:00 Introduction: My 60-Pound Weight Loss Journey
01:14 The Struggle and Decision to Share
01:41 Past Bodybuilding Competitions and Weight Gain
02:44 The Turning Point: Hiking Accident
04:13 Starting the Weight Loss Journey
05:04 Key Strategies: Tracking Food and Avoiding Pitfalls
08:36 Importance of Weighing and Measuring Progress
12:11 Daily Movement and Exercise Routine
14:09 The Role of Yoga in Weight Loss
17:06 Diet and Hydration Tips
21:52 Staying Motivated and Consistent
24:05 Operation Fit AF: Join the Community

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