HOW i stopped skipping workouts (and started loving them)

As a coach, I hear it all the time:

“I want to exercise, I really do — I just can’t find the time.”

Now don’t get me wrong, I get it. Life is chaotic. As a populous, we’re busier than ever. There’s always so much to do: 40 hour work weeks, children, cooking, housework, the list goes on…

But here’s the thing — most of us do have the time.

Time for pub gardens, endless doom-scrolling, Netflix binges. Time for the fun stuff. And how do I know this?

Because I was one of them.

I’d snooze my alarm 100 times. Come up with phantom aches and pains that “meant I couldn’t possibly” go to the gym that day. Sack off a workout for a pint, or 5. I’d tell myself I was tired, overworked, or just too busy. (24 year old me? She needed to get a grip.)

I’d tried, honestly tried, for years to make exercise part of my life. But I never stuck with it. I’d join the gym, perfect intentions, I’d go 5 days a week and then after a month or a terrible hangover, I’d skip a session and never go back.

I was part of the statistic that paid for a gym membership they never used.

I’d voluntarily clean the bathroom over going for a run — *literally anything* to avoid a workout.

Fast forward three years and now I rarely, if ever, miss one. I get up early. I train consistently. And I genuinely love it. I’ll give anything a go (except maybe Hyrox — running is a work in progress for me). But the difference isn’t some massive change in willpower.

So what changed?

No, I didn’t wake up one morning with the discipline of a monk. And no, I didn’t suddenly develop a deep romantic attachment to Bulgarian split squats.

What I found was a community.

It started with a group of people who made getting up in the morning worth it. Men and women who were fitter than I’d ever been. Braver in every way. Some of them are 10 years older than me and still wipe the floor with me in workouts — I mean, absolutely floor me.

And yet I keep coming back. I chase them through every workout, hoping one day I’ll sneak a win. Maybe lift heavier. Maybe move faster. Maybe just survive the session without my overnight oats threatening to resurface.

This group shows up. Five, six days a week. They sweat, they graft, and they try to get 1% better every day. And they inspire me to do the same.

And where it really shifted for me:

Was when someone asked, “Will I see you in class tomorrow?” and I nodded in reply. I wanted to mean it. I couldn’t book off class last minute with an excuse as to why I wouldn’t go. I wanted to show up for myself in the same way that they did. Carving out time for myself in my week that I knew I deserved because they’d shown me I did. And that I could.

One of the most underrated parts of community is that you suddenly find yourself part of something much bigger than your own fitness. You're no longer just ticking off workouts to say you did them, you’re invested in progressing and watching others progress too!

Whether it's a partner Friday, or just hitting that weekly goal of "turning up three times,” there's something powerful about knowing you're not in it alone. You don't have to explain why you're tired, or why you're scaling a movement — everyone gets it. They're right there with you.

Some of the best workouts I’ve had weren’t PBs or peak performance days. They were the ones where I wanted to sign off of class because “I didn’t have it in me today” but turned up anyway because my friends were booked on and I knew it would be exactly what I needed. Or during a workout when you want to quit, but the coach looks over mid-burpee and says, “Come on Gee, you’ve got this.” The smallest nod, the tiniest bit of encouragement — that’s the stuff that keeps you fighting.

If you’re worried you’ll be the slowest, the weakest, the newest — I get it. I felt that way too. Christ, the first time I went to a class I could see stars for the next two hours. And two years on, the programming can still floor me.

But a real gym community? It doesn’t care whether you scale a workout. Or what your deadlift is. Nobody is laughing at you for trying. In fact, they’re probably cheering you on harder than anyone else in your life. Helping you discover untapped potential. Encouraging you to believe that you can give the heavier dumbbell a try.

In this space, ego takes a back seat. You’ll see seasoned athletes fist-bumping beginners. You’ll see someone celebrate getting their first box jump like they just won the Olympics — because to them, it is a big win. And we all share that.

When you move away from training to impress others and shift toward training with others — that’s when things stick. It becomes sustainable. And dare I say, fun?

This community I stumbled into? They’ve become my whole life. Weekend camping trips, beach days, dinners, birthdays, competitions down south. They’re not just gym friends anymore — they’re my people.

I used to be the girl that would struggle to get out of bed in time for a 9:30am office job. I made every excuse in the book for why I couldn’t exercise. I thought I was lazy or just not “that type of person.”

But I wasn’t lazy. I was just missing my reason. I needed support. Encouragement. Camaraderie. I needed people around me who were living the life I said I wanted — and showed me how to start living it too. People I could chase. Aspire to be.

When you grow up being told by your parents that running is “bad for your knees,” or that lifting weights is “dangerous” — it’s no wonder I hesitated. I absorbed the fear. The doubt. The narrative that gyms were for other people. Stronger people. More confident people.

So you don’t go. You don’t even try. And because no one around you is showing you why exercise is empowering. Or the benefits of doing it to age well. It’s easy to keep putting it off.

But a good community? They change that story for you. They lead by example. They prove to you that it’s not too late, that you’re not too unfit, and that yes — you absolutely belong.

So say what you want about the local Gym being a cult — I get it, I was trapped in that mindset too.

But it’s a really good one.

One where people root for you.

One where you show up, try, fail, and try again — together.

And that’s the kind of consistency worth showing up for.

If you’ve been struggling with motivation, routine, or confidence — don’t go it alone. Find your people. Find a group that challenges you and celebrates you at the same time.

Because when you train with a community that lifts you up, you don’t just change your body — you change your life.