I've been fat all my life: size 20 in seventh grade, average height and 180-220 pounds in high school, college, and beyond.  As I grew up, I watched my aunts diet.  They'd lose weight, then gain the weight back plus more.  Repeat.  Repeat.  Repeat until they were three times the size they'd started out at and (more important) unhealthy and physically limited.  I'd noticed the pattern by the time I was 12.  I decided not to diet. 

But, I was a normal, active kid.  I didn't think anything of biking ten miles or cross-country skiing with my more conventionally athletic friends.  I walked or biked to school and back almost every day.  I could do all kinds of tricks on roller skates.  I was in the marching band.  So, through high school and college, I got a lot of exercise without trying.  When I graduated and started driving to work rather than walking to classes, I started to feel weak and sluggish.  For the first time, I decided to exercise on purpose. 

That's how my mid-twenties fitness kick began.  I started going to a small fitness studio near where I lived (I think they'd sent a flyer to my house, and I lucked out!  It was a great place).  The atmosphere there was relaxed and positive.  Three times a week, I'd go to an aerobics or step class.  I got to know the other regulars, felt accepted, and looked forward to classes.

Then I moved.  I looked for a similar kind of place and was lucky enough to find one.  The new studio was even better than the old one: there was an emphasis on teaching and the classes were incredible.  One teacher was a former member of the Martha Graham dance company!  I found myself learning a lot about physiology from the classes and was inspired to do some reading on the side.  Within a few years, I was nurturing an interest in dance (as a hobby) and thinking about getting certified as an aerobics instructor.  Alas, it didn't work out.  In spite of being friendly and welcoming to all kind of students, the owner of the studio was not ready to train an instructor who was larger than average.  "You don't have the kind of body most people aspire to," she said.  Oh well.  True enough.  The studio closed eventually, and my life was changing. 

The next seven years were crazy.  I earned a second degree at night while working full time and started doing some very time consuming volunteer work a year after finishing. Then, I decided to leave everything behind and move to Canada for graduate school.  I kept up the exercise at first.  I knew enough about dance and physiology to make my own workout CDs and put together my own routines, and I had enough room at home to exercise.  I wasn't as consistent with the 3-4 hours of exercise a week as I had been when there was a social element, but I kept it up as well as I could.  Until I moved to Canada, that is.  The move set off a chain reaction that included ending a 11-year relationship, doing badly in school, doing better in school, selling the house I loved, trying a new professional specialty, getting into a new relationship, and getting married.  All in two years.  Exercise - at least the organized kind, with cardio, weight training, and flexibility - fell by the wayside. 

In all the years since the first move (and today, too), I was able to arrange my life so that I could walk to work or school.  So, I walk a couple of kilometres a day.  I play squash with my husband sometimes.  Occasionally, I use the fitness room in my building (hamster on a wheel.  Ugh!)  Sometimes I still exercise on my own, but it's difficult to do in our tiny downtown apartment. 

I miss feeling fit and buoyant.  Everything is a greater effort than it used to be.  I just don't feel as energetic and healthy.  I miss the mood-boosting effect.  And I admit it.  It made me look better too.  My waist has spread by a couple of inches and I'm not as firm as I used to be. 

Since I'm still moderately active, I feel confident that I can walk into most normal fitness classes and be able to more or less keep up.  So, I'm planning to look for a place to take classes.  It needs to be near home/work.  Cost is an issue.  It needs to have an accepting atmosphere; at least, accepting enough that a 200-pound woman who is already pretty experienced with fitness feels comfortable.  Finally, it needs to be fun.  To stay motivated, I have to enjoy what I'm doing.