Ten years ago, I realised that I needed a therapist. Instead, I got a personal trainer. It was the best decision I ever made. I built a workout habit despite having every legitimate excuse not to. Here’s what actually works – and it has nothing to do with loving fitness.

At that time, I was trying to get out of a toxic relationship. My work situation wasn’t great, and my confidence had taken a hit. I took up smoking again, an old habit that I had gotten rid of years ago, but which crept back as if I had never stopped. Going to the gym was only a sporadic activity that I never managed to turn into a routine. Each time I went, it felt like I was starting from scratch. Then one day, Anna, the friendly personal trainer, asked “Hej Annica, when are you going to come and work out with me?”. I had already considered seeing a therapist, but that day I thought: Why not put my money on a personal trainer instead? After all, I had read that physical training was good against depression and for happiness hormones, which I was in desperate need of. 

When Anna asked me that question, I said yes, but not because I wanted to lose weight or get fit. I did it out of fear. You see, I was born with a genetic inherited neuropathy (CMT1) that weakens my muscles and affects my balance. In 4th grade I was excused from physical education. For many years, my parents regularly drove me to the hospitals’ physiotherapy sessions, which was okay because it was far from my town. In college, however, I skipped the PE classes as I did not want to be singled out in front of my peers. Over the years, I underwent a couple of complex foot operations. I met many physiotherapists, who all gave me a few photocopies with exercises to do at home. I never did them. By the time I was a grown up, I had a clear-cut strategy for avoiding situations where I had to disclose or confront my disability. I had invested everything I had in one muscular organ: my brain, whose abilities I knew and trusted in wholeheartedly. However, I had zero confidence in the rest of my body.

I started showing up. Week after week, month after month. Anna became part of my routine, and slowly, something shifted. First, my mood. Then, bit by bit, my energy levels changed too. I stopped smoking for good this time and changed jobs. Eventually, I met someone new who is actually good for me. She cheers me on and even puts up with my early-morning habits. Ten years later, I still meet with my personal trainer weekly. Thanks to her, I’ve built up muscle strength and balance beyond what I ever thought my body was capable of. On top of that, she’s as good a listener as any therapist — and we always have a good laugh!

I have formed a habit that makes me feel good. The gym isn’t fancy – quite the opposite. In fact, I enjoy the easy-going atmosphere and the people I’ve come to recognise, smile and say good morning to. They notice if I haven’t been there for a while. The fact that Carmen, another trainer, once asked me how I was, as she thought I looked sad, made me feel safe. They know me even when they don’t.

By now I’ve learned to manage my illness. It’s not going to get better, but for now  it’s not getting worse. Also, I am confident that if something would happen to me, if I would get sick or injured, I would have the buffer of physical strength to deal with it. And James, one of the other nice trainers at the gym, is right, “lifting heavy sh*” does help you to cope with a stressful or bad day. I always feel better when I leave the gym than I did when I arrived.

So what made this work when everything else failed? It wasn’t just willpower – I had strategies: 

• I make it easy for myself by ensuring that the gym is on my way. It’s literally on my way to or from work. If I went home in between, I’m sure I would get distracted and not go out again.
• I bundle being at the gym with something I like, such as  listening to my favourite podcasts, a good audiobook or just some nice music. Sometimes, I even watch a bit of a TV series while on the exercise bike or cross trainer.
• I keep on counting. Ten years later, I still count. I literally put the number of times I went to the gym in my calendar. I break it down by month, aiming  for three times per week. This way I can see my progress and I know when I’m on track to reach my goal (120 visits a year).
• I compare myself only with myself. This has been the most difficult thing to learn. It’s hard not to compare yourself to others at the gym, who are younger or more athletic for example. We all have different bodies and abilities, and we also have good and bad days depending on our form, sleep, stress and diet. So be kind to yourself if it isn’t your day. Just showing up is an achievement in itself.

By sharing a piece of my story and experiences, I hope to inspire others and perhaps even spark any sense of ‘If she can, I can too’. Building this habit has changed the way I relate to my body and my condition. 

I’m not the type who does gratitude journaling, but I want to give a shout-out to the professionals who helped me along the way – they deserve recognition for the work they do beyond their job descriptions.

To the personal trainers like Anna and her colleagues – they don’t just help people build muscles. They rebuild confidence, provide support, and yes, sometimes serve as impromptu therapists. That’s preventative healthcare at its best.

To physiotherapists like Arthur at Motion Rehab, who helped me learn to trust my body’s ability to heal and rebuild itself (even when living with a condition). A mindset shift that no amount of medical intervention alone could provide.

And to the multidisciplinary teams at St Luc Centre for Neuromuscular Diseases – their team demonstrates what holistic healthcare can look like. Their approach has also made me feel more comfortable opening up about my condition.

Annica