If you’re anything like me, you don’t love the gym. It just feels … uncomfortable. Like, my tribe isn’t there. And that suited me just fine as a child. I was effortlessly active. I started dancing when I was three years old and continued until I was a senior in high school. I was also a sprinter and a high jumper. I kept moving but I never considered myself “working out.” I was just living my life.

My first year in college presented my first real fitness challenge. And I didn’t realize it until I returned home for the summer. In May of 1999, my grandparents and parents (who had seen me throughout the year) proclaimed over and over that I had “put on weight.” I didn’t see it and that was frustrating. So, I jumped on the scale. (Just to be clear - I don’t put much emphasis on weight. If it weren’t for my husband, I wouldn’t even have a scale in my home.) But there it was: the freshman 15. I. Was. Shocked.

My weight didn’t bother me, but my weight gain did. I definitely didn’t want t...