Motivation: Or, Why I’m Still Going to the Gym Injured and Smiling About It

As I work through a few injuries while still training and looking ahead, I’ve been thinking a lot about motivation. Motivation can be as simple as dragging yourself out of bed in the morning, going to work, making money, and paying for what I lovingly refer to as my home: Shangri-La.

But motivation can also be bigger—think fitness journeys, financial goals, or those personal goals that quietly (or loudly) tap you on the shoulder when you’re scrolling on the couch.

For me, motivation usually comes with a specific goal attached. Yes, there’s the obvious one—looking good in my Lulus—but I also want my body to be capable. I want to handle the camping and hiking trips I have planned without needing a recovery nap that lasts three business days.

This weekend, I’m heading to Tremblant for a snowshoe trip with some great women. In April, I’m off to Portugal with my daughter, where there will be a lot of walking. In September, I have a 75 km hike planned. And who knows what will pop up in between?

Planning ahead turns out to be a huge motivator. Who wants to plan amazing things and then not be able to fully do them? Not me. I want to see it all, do it all, and complain only a reasonable amount.

Over the last few months, I’ve been going to the gym with my daughter. She’s training for something called Hyrox (which sounds intense because it is), preparing for a half marathon with one of my closest friends, and staying in shape during rugby off-season.

What she probably doesn’t realize is that training with her is a massive motivator for me. I push myself harder. I show up even when I don’t really feel like it. Somehow, I end up doing “just one more set” instead of negotiating my way out of it.

I want to show up for her. I want her to know her mom is strong and capable. That feels like good modeling for the future.

Let me be clear: I am not trying to keep up with her. She is a competitive athlete in her late teens. I am a middle-aged woman with many responsibilities and an impressive collection of injuries earned from trying to keep up with my friends. Still, spending this time with my almost-adult child is incredibly motivating—and I treasure it more than I can say.

What keeps me motivated also looks a lot like accountability. I’m motivated to keep fitting into my skinny jeans (even if a certain friends teenager insists they’re going out of style). I’m accountable to myself to climb the stairs to my second-floor office every day without questioning my life choices.

I want to be strong enough to keep doing the things I love: paddling, hiking, swimming, yoga—all of it.

Recently, I responded to another blogger I know who writes about his life and has a few friends on a sofa-to-fitness journey—sometimes with more sofa than fitness. He made a comment about whether anyone else wanted to be “humiliated,” and I thought… why not?

I used to belong to an online fitness group where we shared food choices and workouts, and it was surprisingly motivating. So I messaged him and offered to join the journey. I sent a man I’ve never met my weight and measurements, and just like that—accountability officially began.

Motivation, for me, also looks a lot like community. I love to hear the journey's of my friends - one who today is going to ride an actual camel - her fitness journey is motivating and inspiring. I’m motivated to hike with friends, to do physical activities with my kids, and even to meet new people (yes, that blogger and I will meet in real life one day—over pizza and wine, obviously).

I love connecting people, too. My daughter with my friend. My Vancouver bestie with my work bestie. Friends who’ve never paddled or skied suddenly saying yes to new adventures.

These fun, shared experiences happen because we stay fit, healthy, and are willing to show up together.

And honestly—what could be better than that?