AKA: honest reflections on training through changes to early menopause

For most of my life, training was simple. Not easy, but predictable. You train, you recover, you get stronger. You push harder, you adapt. Repeat.

But for me, the relationship between my body, hormones, and training was never entirely straightforward, and early menopause didn’t arrive suddenly. It arrived layered on top of a lifetime of hormonal complexity.

This isn’t a post about quitting, and it’s not a “menopause ruined my body” story either. I fought hard not to be.

It’s about learning how to train, think, and stay mentally strong when your body stops responding the way it used to, and how that process has been far more demanding (and meaningful) than any PR I ever chased.

A body that never followed the standard timeline

I lived with long periods of amenorrhoea since my teenage years. For a long time, it was just how my body worked. Eventually, many years and many “It could be this”, “It might be that”, “It’s your fault”, I was diagnosed with PCOS. My symptoms weren’t severe in the way PCOS is often described, but the impact ran deep, especially when it came to fertility.

I became a mother through IVF, and only after having my daughter did the bigger picture come into focus. I was post-diagnosed as having entered peri menopause at 31, and officially confirmed as being in menopause at 37.

That’s not something you’re ever prepared to hear, because early menopause isn’t just a physical shift; it’s a psychological earthquake. It’s the moment you realise that one part of your body is ageing twenty years ahead of the rest of you, and you’re expected to just… accept it. And hide it, because it’s shameful.

Well, guess what: I’m not ashamed of entering menopause so early (anymore). It happened, and I now embrace it because I can’t change it.

When HRT changed everything

I started HRT at 39, and I don’t say this lightly: it changed my life for the better. Not in a “fixed everything overnight” way, but in a way that gave me myself back.
It took me two years to figure out that the miserable life I was living was due to the menopause symptoms I could actually agency. And it took another nine months for my body to adapt to the magic of HRT. My mood stabilised, my energy became more predictable, my capacity to cope, mentally and physically, returned.

Early menopause is no bloody joke. The mental toll alone can be devastating: grief, identity loss, anxiety, and the quiet fear that your body has somehow betrayed you too early.

HRT didn’t erase those feelings, but it gave me the ground to stand on while I learned how to live, and train, inside this new reality.

Bear in mind: HRT did work for me, but each body is different. Consult a specialist if you suspect you might be in peri menopause or in menopause, and want to explore HRT support.

When effort stops matching outcomes

One of the most disorienting parts of menopause, especially if you’ve trained for years, is this:

• You’re still doing the work.
• Sometimes more work.
• But the results don’t follow in the same way.

Strength fluctuates, recovery takes longer, fatigue shows up early and lingers. It sucks. And mentally, that’s brutal. When you’ve built your identity around discipline and consistency, it’s hard not to ask yourself: “What am I doing wrong?”. For a long time, I assumed the answer was always me.

Muscle doesn’t disappear, but the rules change

Here’s the part that often gets lost in (early) menopause conversations. Yes, building muscle might have been faster in my twenties or early thirties, but that doesn’t mean it’s impossible now.

In fact, and this matters, I have grown muscle in this phase of my life, largely thanks to weightlifting.
The rules are different, not broken. Hormonal changes affect muscle protein synthesis, recovery speed, connective tissue resilience, sleep quality etc, while progress now requires more patience, smarter loading, better recovery, and less ego. But it’s still progress.

And in many ways, it’s more intentional, more technical, and more satisfying.

Training becomes a negotiation, not a battle

Earlier in life, training felt like a fight I could win by pushing harder. Now, it feels more like a conversation.
Some days my body says: “Yes, today we lift, and we lift very heavy and easy.” Other days it says: “We move, but less heavy.”, or: “We rest, whether you like it or not. Period.” (pun intended)

Learning to listen, really listen, has been uncomfortable. Because listening sometimes means stopping, or reducing load, or walking away from the plan I carefully wrote, but ignoring those signals costs more now than it ever did before.

Mental strength looks different in midlife

There’s a version of mental toughness that’s widely celebrated: it’s the one that pushes through, grinds harder, and where you don’t complain. I have been worshipping this since I have recollection of myself and my actions.

Menopause and early menopause dismantles that idea, and it’s been so hard (so hard!) to get out of that train. Real mental strength at this stage looks like showing up even when confidence is low, accepting regression without spiralling, training for longevity, not validation (this is important), and separating self-worth from performance.

It’s quieter and less visible, but infinitely harder.

The grief no one talks about

There’s grief in this journey. Grief for many things, such as how fast your body once recovered, how simple progress used to feel, and the version of yourself you (didn’t) realise you’d miss.

I learn to think that you’re not weak for feeling that. You’re allowed to miss your old body and respect your current one at the same time. Both can coexist. And you can mourn and be proud at the same time.

Why I keep training anyway

Because I can’t breathe otherwise. I don’t train during menopause to prove anything. I train because movement stabilises my mental health, and this can’t change with ageing.

Lifting keeps me grounded, and strength gives me agency in a changing body. Training reminds me I’m still capable, even when the metrics say otherwise. Muscles matter, but mental resilience matters more.

If you’re navigating these menopause waters too, you need to read this

If you’re in midlife, in menopause, peri menopause, or experiencing early menopause, and wondering why training suddenly feels harder, you’re not imagining it.

You’re not lazy, you’re not broken (I have been said that also when I could not get pregnant), and you’re not alone. Read it again: you are not alone.

Your body has been adapting for years, and you’re just learning how to meet it where it is now. And that, too, is strength. You should be proud of it.

Menopause didn’t take training away from me. It forced me to redefine why I train, how I train, and who I am when performance isn’t guaranteed. And in a strange, hard, unexpected way, that’s made me stronger than ever.

I have been through all of that, I know the journey though HRT adaptation, my mind is now at peace, and I hear you.