In an economy that asks that we tighten our belts to protect our own financial house, I took  steps to protect my little piece of the pie.  One day, I made several sweeping strokes to reduce spending. Of those sacrifices, perhaps the greatest was to discontinue my gym membership.  It was particularly painful not only because my career depends on good fitness, but also because I was soon to be a bride whose gown was a pricey and sexy little number by designer extraordinaire, Claire Pettibone.  I wanted to rock it, of course, which would require discliplined exercise and nutrition.

There were additional challenges plaguing my goal. For one, we had a month-long trip coming up to the UK to visit family just weeks before the wedding, meaning not just a lack of work-out facilities but the temptation to celebrate would be insurmountable. In addition, even with an hour of cardio daily, I had reached a weight plateau unable to shed a single pound in prior months. Success seemed like a hopeless pie in the sky.

However, I couldn’t stop thinking about my amazing Claire Pettibone dress.  Nor could I stop thinking about the fairy tale wedding we had planned.  I may have been a mature bride, but the image in my head was that of a blushing princess.  I intended to live up to that fantasy.

Thankfully, after years of sports training, I knew a thing or two about fitness.  So, I bought a theraband and rubber tubing to pack in my overseas suitcase (Oh – addiitonal obstacles: we could only pack one bag each and I can’t jog due to bad knees). With the therabands and rubber tubbing, I got creative with weight bearing exercises borrowed from a variety of fitness training techniques including pilates.  So, I tuned into my iPod and stretched away using whatever space and stuctures available to me. I looped the bands around staircase rails, for example, and pulled my arms, dipped, yanked and whatever I could imagine for an hour or so each day that I could.

Outcome: After a month of home-style pilates, Scotch, wine and my mother-in-law’s cooking, I actually lost eight pounds! I was shocked.  Hope was not just a campaign slogan.  Now, I knew I could rock my Claire Pettibone.  I continued on that path and lost three inches in my hips and toned everywhere else.

Through sheer serendipity, I learned a lesson that I had denied: Cardio may burn a lot of calories, but muscles increase metabolism at any age.