Muscle Loss: The Silent Strength Stealer No One Warns You About

Physical fitness has always been a part of who I am. It was never optional; it was necessary.

I grew up as a multi-sport athlete, rotating through gymnastics, basketball, and track year-round, and I loved every second of it. My mom used to tell me that if I ever felt off or not like myself, I needed to move my body again. She was right. Movement grounded me. Those endorphins were powerful, not just physically, but mentally.

In college, I leaned into Bikram yoga, drawn to the intensity, the discipline, and the challenge of a 90-minute class in extreme heat. I loved running, explored kickboxing, worked with trainers here and there, but I avoided lifting weights when possible. That stigma ran deep.

Growing up in the 80s, I remember friends commenting on my legs being “too muscular,” noticing how my natural build from participating in sports looked different as we all sat side by side.

By the 90s, the ultra-thin “heroin chic” look had become the ideal, a standard that resurfaced again in the early 2000s. Coming from an athletic background, I had a stronger, more muscular frame that wasn’t always celebrated. From the comments I endured growing up about my appearance, I constantly compared myself to naturally thinner friends and the wafer-thin models and actresses held up by society, internalizing the message that their body type was the ideal and that mine somehow didn’t fit.

That was the unfortunate reality of growing up in a body that developed differently from many of my peers. Those comments stayed with me, and at that age, they can make you second-guess everything. It wasn’t until later that the perspective began to shift, and the same strength that once made me feel out of place was something others began to admire. What I didn’t realize then was that I was building a foundation, one that would carry me through every phase of my life. Over time, I grew into that strength and came to appreciate and love it in a completely different way.

When Everything Changed

In my mid 20s, a major car accident completely shifted my physical trajectory. I had to rebuild from the ground up, physically and mentally. The way I moved, trained, and supported my body had to change. That is what led me to Pilates. What started as a necessity became a passion. Pilates gave me a way to rebuild after serious neck and back injuries while still allowing me to feel challenged and connected to my body. It brought back that athletic feeling I craved, in a way that felt supportive instead of damaging. Eventually, it became more than a practice. It became my career.

The Years Everything Felt in and out of Control

For years, Pilates, light strength work, and cardio were enough. I maintained a strong, lean physique and felt good in my body. Even after having kids, I was able to rebuild through consistency and determination. It took longer after my first pregnancy, but I eventually found my way back through movement and nutrition.

After my son, I faced a different challenge. I was diagnosed with SIBO and gastritis, both of which were incredibly painful. Around that same time, I was also navigating the loss of my mom. The stress compounded my GI issues, which led me to years of testing, dietary shifts, and strict nutritional guidelines, all while raising 2 children under 3. This became my new normal and main focus just to survive.

Still, I kept going.

In my late 30s, I completed a second intensive Pilates certification, spending hundreds of hours training. I was moving constantly, fully immersed in my practice. Looking back, there were early signs that something was shifting. Recovery felt slower. Falling asleep was more difficult, and my anxiety was more present. At the time, I dismissed it, attributing everything to the demands of training, preparing for both my written and practical exams, raising kids, and life in general.

By 40, I still felt strong and confident in my body. I was teaching Pilates, training consistently, and fully immersed in the fitness lifestyle I had built over a lifetime. Even as I navigated anxiety, insomnia, hair loss, and ongoing gut health protocols, I told myself I was fine. Functional. Still me.

The Shift I Did Not See Coming

Then COVID happened. Studios shut down, routines changed, and stress increased. That was when everything began to surface. What once felt subtle became persistent: joint pain, increased injuries, insomnia, anxiety, and slower recovery. But one change was impossible to ignore—the hair loss. This wasn’t normal shedding. It was excessive and alarming. My ponytail had shrunk to a fraction of its size, and my curls no longer held their shape, turning into frizz. What was happening? And underneath it all, something deeper was unfolding.

I was losing muscle.

At the time, I didn’t fully recognize it. On the surface, I was still moving, teaching, and staying active, but underneath, something had already begun to shift in a significant way.

The Moment It Hit Me

In my early 40s, we moved back to my hometown and finally secured a home during the wild west of real estate, marked by inflated prices and the tail end of the COVID-era buying frenzy. Between house hunting, closing, packing, and balancing my clients, there was little to no time to exercise. I didn’t realize this temporary pause would accelerate what was already a fast-moving snowball of muscle loss.

To pull myself out of that slump, I decided to join my friend at her gym, The Camp. We rotated through high-energy, fast-paced stations that combined weights, cardio, battle ropes, BOSU balls, and strength-based barbell work. The environment was intense and constantly moving. The instructor felt more like a drill sergeant than a coach, which made the environment a little intimidating, like everything had to be done perfectly. I watched my friend power through bicep curls and thought, “This should be easy.” I picked up a 20-pound barbell and could barely get through five reps.

It felt shockingly heavy.

That was the moment I realized something in my body had already changed. The strength I once had was no longer there. I couldn’t believe it, I was in shock. I knew I had to do something, but I also knew I couldn’t safely keep up in that class to rebuild my strength. I needed a different approach, but I wasn’t sure what that looked like. I was confused by how quickly it had happened and frustrated that I didn’t know where to start. So I did what I had always known and returned to Pilates.

Another moment came when I was editing a video of myself demonstrating a tricep press on the Cadillac. As I looked more closely, I saw my tricep pressing into the mat, revealing rippling and dimpling along the back of my arm that I didn’t recognize. I remember thinking, I don’t remember my arms ever looking like that.

It was a wake-up call. I started taking inventory of my body, revisiting Pilates exercises that had once felt effortless. This time, they didn’t. Movements that used to flow seamlessly now required effort, control, and focus in a way they hadn’t before. I found myself asking, How is this suddenly so hard?

Then I began to notice it everywhere. The way my sports bras fit differently. The changes through my midsection. The shift in how my body carried itself. Looking back at photos, the difference became impossible to ignore. I didn’t feel like I recognized my body anymore. The weight had slowly crept up, and my body was no longer responding the way it once had. What I didn’t fully understand at the time was that I was already deep into perimenopause, and the changes I was seeing and feeling hit me like a freight train.

What No One Tells You About Muscle Loss

Muscle loss does not happen overnight. It occurs gradually and quietly, often without you realizing it until you are already deep into it. During perimenopause, declining estrogen levels accelerate this process, called sarcopenia, which can begin as early as your mid-30s. Without intentional strength training, women can lose approximately one to three percent of muscle mass per year.

This is not just about appearance. Muscle plays a critical role in blood sugar regulation, metabolism, bone density, hormone balance, and long-term health. When muscle declines, it creates a cascade of changes throughout the body, affecting how you feel, function, and recover. Rebuilding and protecting that muscle requires a more intentional approach than what may have worked in earlier years.

When Your Body Stops Responding the Same Way

Looking back, it wasn’t just about strength. My body wasn’t responding the way it used to. Energy levels fluctuated. Recovery took longer. Progress felt inconsistent, even when I was doing everything “right.” I found myself questioning everything: my workouts, my nutrition, my motivation, my consistency. But the issue wasn’t effort. My body had different needs now, and I hadn’t adjusted yet. I didn’t yet have the tools or the hormonal support to fill the gap that had already begun in my 30s and continued into my 40s.

Chasing Fixes Instead of Understanding

At one point, I turned to frequent cleanses, trying to control the changes I was seeing. But it wasn’t sustainable, physically, mentally, or emotionally. Instead of helping, it added more stress to a body that was already under pressure. I was searching for control when what I actually needed was clarity.

My Turning Point, Strength With Strategy

Eventually, I hired a trainer to learn how to strength train properly while protecting my back. It wasn’t linear. Some movements didn’t work for me. Traditional RDLs were out. I had to modify using benches, walls, and cables. Progress felt slow and inconsistent at times. Two steps forward, two steps back. Between running a studio, raising kids, and coaching high jump, my body was under constant demand. Demonstrating high jump movements repeatedly and putting away the pit added another layer of strain. I realized I wasn’t just trying to get stronger, I was trying to find balance.

Training once or twice a week with a trainer wasn’t enough to create real change. As I leaned more into strength training, I also found myself unintentionally pulling away from my Pilates practice. So I joined a gym and began training more consistently, building up to three to five days per week. That is when things started to shift.

That is also when I began to understand that rebuilding muscle at this stage requires intention. Not just movement, not just showing up, but progressive strength training. I had to start lifting heavier, working closer to fatigue, and increasing weights as my body adapted. It was no longer enough to stay active. I needed to give my body a reason to rebuild what it had lost.

Finding the Right Balance

This is the part no one really talks about. It’s not just about doing more, it’s about doing what matters most. Time is limited. Between business, family, and life, there is no room for perfect programming. It becomes about being intentional. Choosing the right muscle groups. Choosing the right exercises. Choosing between Pilates and the gym. Eating the proper amount of protein. Maximizing the time you do have. Allowing recovery without losing momentum. Balance means everything, but it wasn’t enough, not yet. A few more tools were missing from the toolbox.

It Was Never Just About Weight

Around this time, I had already started HRT and a GLP-1. And I want to be honest about that, because there is a lot of judgment around it. This wasn’t about vanity. My body had changed in ways I couldn’t control. The weight gain was just one part of it, but underneath that, there was inflammation, joint pain, and symptoms that pointed to something deeper. My doctor even suspected autoimmune involvement. I was doing everything I knew how to do, training, staying consistent, nutrition, cleansing, showing up, and my body still wasn’t responding. That was the hardest part.

I felt like I was failing at the one thing I had always known how to do. Fitness was my literal job. I was embarrassed. I was frustrated. And if I’m being honest, I was afraid even to admit it. But this was my reality. The support I chose wasn’t about taking the easy way out. It was about giving my body what it needed at a time when it was clearly struggling. And even with that support, I could feel there was still an additional gap, something deeper that hadn’t yet been addressed.

When Strength Alone Is Not Enough

Even as I gained strength, something still felt off. My recovery lagged. My energy fluctuated. My body still wasn’t responding the way I expected. That’s when I started looking deeper.

The GLP-1 and HRT helped, but something still felt incomplete. There was a missing piece, one I had delayed pursuing because I was afraid of the potential side effect of hair loss, something I had already experienced on and off since having my second child.

The energy component was still missing. I was tired. The afternoon fatigue was real, and my motivation felt almost nonexistent. I was missing that internal drive, the push that once came so easily. At the same time, I had shifted heavily into strength training and pulled away from my Pilates practice. I thought I could out-train imbalance. I couldn’t.

It didn’t take long to feel the difference. Within weeks, my body started to change, and not in a good way. Tightness crept in. My mobility decreased. My shoulders began to round. Movements that once felt fluid started to feel restricted. That was a hard lesson. Strength alone was not enough. While lifting helped me rebuild some muscle, it also exposed the gaps. Without maintaining mobility, stability, and proper alignment, my body began to compensate. The smaller stabilizing muscles, the ones responsible for control and posture, were no longer being supported the way they needed to be. My spine lost its flexibility, and that stiffness started to carry through my entire body.

This is where Pilates became essential again. It restored what strength training alone could not. It helped me regain mobility, improve posture, and reconnect to the deeper stabilizing muscles that support every movement. Because muscle alone is not the goal. Function is. You can lift heavy. You can chase strength. But if your foundation isn’t there, your body will tell you. The real transformation happens when everything works together: strength, mobility, stability, and control.

And when your hormones are supported properly, your body responds differently. Recovery improves. Muscle builds more efficiently. Energy returns. This isn’t about choosing one or the other. It’s about training intelligently and supporting your body from the inside out. That’s where everything starts to come together.

The Missing Link I Had to Fight For

The incomplete feeling pushed me to look more closely at my hormones, specifically testosterone. I had to ask for it, advocate for it, and get properly tested. Testosterone is classified as a controlled substance in the United States, which means it is more tightly regulated. While there are valid reasons for monitoring and baseline testing, the process for women can feel unnecessarily complex and, at times, discouraging.

In my experience, it felt like an uphill battle. I had to navigate additional appointments, often with different providers, just to continue the conversation. Meanwhile, there is a broader perception, and often a reality, that men can access certain treatments more easily when symptoms are clear and recognized. Within many telehealth and hormone health communities, this is a commonly shared frustration. There is a growing conversation around the need for more streamlined, informed, and supportive care for women, especially when symptoms are present, and other avenues have already been explored.

When your body is clearly signaling that something is off, and you have already done the work to address it, access to the next level of care should not feel so delayed or difficult. For me, this was not just about getting a prescription. It was about being heard, understood, and supported in finding the missing piece my body needed. Because what I was experiencing, low energy, difficulty building and maintaining muscle, brain fog, lack of energy and motivation, was not just aging. It was a gap that had not yet been addressed. Once I started connecting those dots, everything began to make more sense. This was no longer just about workouts. It was about rebuilding my body with the full picture in mind.

Muscle Becomes Your Support System

At this stage of life, muscle is no longer just about how you look. It becomes your support system. It supports metabolism, stabilizes blood sugar, protects your joints, and helps your body adapt to stress. Without it, everything feels harder. With it, everything feels more supported. Building and maintaining that muscle requires both strength and strategy; lifting to challenge and grow muscle, and incorporating movement that supports how your body functions as a whole.

A Shift in Mindset

There was a time when working out was about how your body looked.

Now, it is about how your body functions.

You are not training for today.

You are training for your future, your 50s, 60s, 70s, and beyond.

The Good News

This is not the end of your strength. It is the beginning of understanding your body on a deeper level. When you stop fighting your body and start supporting it, things begin to shift. Your strength returns. Your energy improves. Your body becomes responsive again.

Not overnight.

But in a way that lasts.

Because there comes a point where doing all the right things is not enough.

And that is where the conversation around hormones begins.