A reintroduction

Dear Infinity Movement Community,

For many of you, this may feel like a reintroduction but for those of you who are new here, hello, hi, bonjour! I’m Heidi Lee Rubin, SweatMtl, your Captain of Fun!

There are a lot of new faces in the studio, and even for those who have been here a long time, I realize that where I’m coming from—and why this space exists the way it does—may not always be clear.

This studio began as a dream: a place where myself, and folks like me, could access services that felt aligned and choose to spend time and money with independent local businesses that create real belonging. It started online, in Zoom rooms, then moved to fields, parks, and gazebos—by way of the trunk of my car—before becoming what you see today.

I wasn’t born into the fitness industry. I was born into a world of sports, play, movement and community that is deeply connected through our bodies ability to move together. Those things can look similar from the outside, but to me they are fundamentally different. That’s not to say physical health doesn’t matter to me—it does. I care deeply about our individual and collective strength, mobility, muscle mass, and cardiovascular health and in a world where so much is out of our control, advocating for our physical well-being can be one of the few places where agency is still available to us.

But if I’m being honest, the moments of greatest joy in my life have never come from chasing physical perfection. They’ve come from exertion that felt meaningful—running, lifting, playing, moving alongside other people. Often (but not exclusively) on teams playing sports. Always in community. 

I feel it’s important to share that launching this kind of newsletter brings up some fear for me. It isn’t about marketing a product or a service—it’s about sharing a personal perspective that you may or may not find interesting, supportive, or helpful in some way, shaped by the many lives I’ve lived to get where I am today.

So without further ado, LET’S GOOOOOO!

January often arrives with a familiar kind of pressure. This year, I made a conscious effort not to sink into it—to give myself the space to land before expanding into 2026 in a way that actually feels sustainable. Which is why this “January” newsletter is really arriving in February.

With the best intentions, we’re encouraged to reset, recommit, and reinvent ourselves—to buy into a regimented version of new year, new me. It sounds hopeful, but more often than not, the foundation needed to sustain those changes hasn’t been built. And when change is rushed, it rarely lasts.

Habits aren’t formed through intensity or willpower alone. They’re built through repetition, support, and sustainability. Without those elements, many people find themselves repeating the same cycle year after year: starting strong, burning out, disconnecting, and feeling discouraged—not because they failed, but because the structure around them was never designed for long-term success. Over time, that cycle can quietly erode trust—not just in the process, but in ourselves.

I’ve lived many lives and adopted many habits along the way—some supportive, some not so much. What I’ve learned is that what actually lasts isn’t pressure or punishment; it’s relationship. Practices built with compassion and realism—ones you can return to even when life gets messy. That’s why I approached January differently. Not as a reset that demands perfection, but as an opportunity to ease into a preset foundation that has been in the works for a while now—one that prioritizes consistency over intensity, trust over shame, and sustainability over being performative. Habits need time, space, and care to take root. They don’t need a countdown clock—just a safe place to begin.

If you know me, then you know I’m a classic rock kinda person, so in the words of Canadian rock band Trooper: “We’re here for a good time, not a long time. So have a good time—the sun can’t shine every day.”

I often think about the difference between fitness and movement, especially because I’ve built my business in this industry. Fitness, as an industry, often centers on optimization, aesthetics, and correction. Movement, as I’ve lived it, is about expression, connection, and participation. Somewhere along the way, movement shifted from something we experience to something we’re expected to optimize—and in that shift, it can lose its joy. 

That’s why The Joy of Movement resonated so deeply with me. The author, Kelly McConigal PhD,  articulates feelings I’ve carried for a long time and gives language to a perspective I feel compelled to share.

Here’s a list of some other great books I’ve read or been recommended, all centered around our relationships—with ourselves and with others.

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Atomic Habits by James Clear

Nonviolent Communication by Dr. Marshall Rosenberg

Deep Houseby Jeremy Atherton Lim

Parable 0f the Sower by Octavia Butler

All About Love By Bell Hooks

If you’ve made it this far, you deserve a standing ovation, a little confetti, and an enthusiastic high five.

Being in this space we’ve built together brings me so much joy.

To those who’ve been here since day one: you are my champions. You’ve walked through it all with me, and I’m beyond grateful you’re still here.

To those who bring the party: your energy is the heartbeat of this place.

And to those moving through life’s hardest seasons and still showing up because you believe it’s better to do hard things together than alone—you are the connective tissue that keeps us united. We feel with you, and we’re here for all of it.

Thank you for letting me witness your lives with such vulnerability and generosity.

I’m so grateful to be here with you all. I love you—and I hope we do this again sometime.

Your devoted Captain of Fun,

Heidi Rubin