Walking Up the Down Escalator
I’ve always loved escalators.
When I was a kid, I had this strange fascination with trying to walk up the down escalator. I would step onto the moving stairs headed in the opposite direction and start climbing. Usually, an adult nearby would quickly reprimand me and send me back the right way.
But it was the challenge that excited me. The harder you pushed, the faster you climbed. At least that’s what it felt like. Eventually, though, you realize something strange: no matter how much effort you put in, you barely move. The escalator keeps pulling you back down.
For years, I approached my body the same way.
Eat to Move
As a kid, I spent a lot of time home alone after school. Being a latch-key child meant the kitchen became a place for experimentation.
My creations weren’t exactly gourmet since my mom didn’t buy the usual processed junk food. So I became a bit of a chemist: cocoa powder, Cool Whip, and a saltine cracker, for example. Sometimes the results were surprisingly good although weird.
But somewhere in those years, a subtle shift happened. I began to realize that I had control over what went into my mouth, and that awareness created a powerful sense of agency.
Alongside that control, another habit quietly formed: if I ate more, I felt the need to move more.
At first it seemed harmless. Logical. But over time it became automatic.
Constantly Undernourished
I think many women can relate to this pattern because we are often sent the same message: if a little is good, then more must be better. Especially when calories increase for any reason, many of us feel the need to “balance it out” with more movement.
Over time, that thinking creates a familiar habit:
increase calories → increase activity → weight doesn’t change (or it does briefly) → reduce calories again.
The body begins to expect that whenever more food arrives, more movement will follow. So instead of allowing nourishment to stay, the system compensates.
It’s a seductive pattern, and many people can get stuck in it for years without realizing it.
What happens next is subtle but important: the body never fully experiences consistent nourishment. Calories come in, but they are quickly burned off. Instead of allowing nourishment to stay, the body is constantly trying to keep up. Over time, it becomes much harder to build the resilience, stamina, and lean strength that most women are working toward.
Over time this pattern can also keep the nervous system on high alert, relying more on stress hormones like adrenaline to keep energy moving instead of allowing the body to fully recover and rebuild.
Why the Body Needs Consistency
One of the most important shifts I made recently felt completely foreign at first. For years, I paired eating more with more activity. Any increase in food was quickly followed by more movement.
I had to change the pattern.
For a period of time, I simply ate more, and I became far more sedentary than I had been in years. At first, this felt almost irresponsible.
Metabolically, however, it was an important signal to my body. I had to create a new pattern so my body could learn something different:
If food increases, movement does not automatically increase.
My body finally experienced something it hadn’t felt in a long time: Consistent nourishment.
When the body begins to trust that fuel will remain available, it can finally begin rebuilding energy, strength, and resilience. For me, this was the first time that had ever happened.
What Actually Builds a Strong Body
The physique many women say they want…lean, strong, and feminine…rarely comes from running more, walking more, swimming more, or simply moving more.
More often it develops through a much less glamorous approach:
adequate nourishment (yes, protein through whole foods)
good sleep
resistance training
walking and normal daily movement
lower stress hormones
and patience.
Sometimes the most disciplined choice is counterintuitive: allowing nourishment to stay long enough for the body to remember what strength feels like again.
And when that happens, something interesting begins to change.
The body begins to step out of “fight or flight.” Energy becomes steadier. Strength builds more naturally. Movement starts to feel productive again instead of punishment.
For me, it was time to turn around on that escalator.
Climbing up the down escalator led me nowhere fast. But it took me way too long to figure that out, and I had to learn the hard way. (and I’m not there yet).
So now I choose to step onto the right escalator and finally let my body work with me instead of against me.