I’ve been a mover my whole life. I walked (WALKED. On my own. With no support!!) at 7-months old. (My poor mother) and I never stopped. By three, I was roller skating and launching my tiny push bike off the back stairs emulating my hero Evel Knievel. 

(Like I said, my poor mother…)

I was lucky–and not just because my trips to the emergency room were minimal (yes, there are scars.) But I was really lucky because my parents indulged my need to move and gave me many outlets. 

As a little kid, I took tap classes, played soccer, climbed trees, and lip synced to the Grease soundtrack to my heart’s content. I was given a yoga book for my fourth birthday.

In high school, I studied Alexander technique and took voice and ballet lessons, played soccer and field hockey, and got formal instruction in Iyengar Yoga. Along the way there was some Jazzercise and a good amount of Jane Fonda’s workout (it was the 80s afterall!)

At 21, I arrived in New York to go to theater school and seek my fortune in Musicals!  I had some early success as a performer but found myself skipping auditions in favor of the difficult, sweaty, cool, compelling vinyasa yoga classes that were being taught at my local Crunch gym. The movements in these classes were the same as those I had been doing my whole life but the intensity of the flow, the depth of relaxation, and the pervasiveness of the peace I began to feel in my life totally changed me. 

For the first time in YEARS I felt…normal. Calm and clear headed. And for the first time in my LIFE I felt self esteem and deep self love. 

Before too long I had left performing behind to train as a yoga instructor. I had no plans to make a 20-plus year career out of it. I just wanted to immerse myself in yoga. And keep feeling fantastic! But it turned out I was good at teaching movement and before I knew it 10-years had passed doing just that.

By my mid-thirties, I was a successful yoga instructor and an accomplished practitioner.  I could do ALL the moves! But my body was beginning to feel dull and achy.  And quite frankly, I was a little bored. I found myself wondering if I had more in me, if there was a new way to move that I hadn’t explored.

I turned to fellow yoga teacher turned CrossFit coach, Keith Wittenstein, for advice.  “You need to get stronger. All that dullness and those aches and pains will go away if you just get stronger.” 

Gulp! The next chapter of my life was about to begin! 

Six weeks after my first 10-day silent meditation retreat, I found myself in an intro to CrossFit class and my life was changed. I loved the sweaty intensity of the workouts. I loved that they forced me to focus and manage my mind as much as my body. (Just like yoga!) And I really loved how strong I was getting. 

Within 18-months I was competing on a CrossFit team and coaching CrossFit full-time. Starting in my late 30’s, I was always one of the oldest people in the gym. But that didn’t stop me. I worked hard for every rep I completed and every pound I put on the barbell.  

At 38, over a year into my CrossFit and strength journey, I performed my first pull-up (something I hadn’t been able to do all of my life). And then I did it again, and again, and again! To the slim, fit 20-something boys who trained alongside me, this was a minor accomplishment. But to me, almost 40, bottom heavy and way too flexible and loose for my own good, this was a life changing moment. I earned every inch of that pull-up and it was thrilling! And I was proud. That accomplishment unlocked in me so many possibilities. 

What else was I capable of?  

• Squatting and deadlifting over 225-pounds? check!  

• Flipping a 700-pound tire? Check.  

• Putting my name at the top of the leaderboard in our gym for one of the famed CrossFit benchmark workouts? CHECK. 

• Feeling agency over my body and control over my fitness future. CHECK, CHECK, CHECK!

But more important than the physical accomplishments or numbers on the barbell, these physical gains were making me stronger inside, clearer about who I was, and more certain of my place in the world.  I was becoming more resilient. 

A few years into my life as a Crossfitter, I found out I needed a major surgery to remove a football sized mass from my abdomen. The mass was benign and there was no emergency. So I used the time leading up to the surgery to make my body as strong and fit as I possibly could. The day of the surgery I was in the OR for three hours and had to stay overnight in the hospital. But despite some tenderness and a very large incision, I was able to walk out of the hospital on the strong legs I had built in the gym.  

Within 6-weeks I was back to training and within 4-months I was back on the competition floor. Amazing, right?

But here’s the thing – building strength on the outside didn’t just impact my ability to “bounce back” after something physically challenging. It also supported me to move through some of the most emotionally challenging seasons of my life and gave me an outlet to reconnect with a sense of strength, period.

Take this one for example:

I married for the first time in my early forties. My husband and I began fertility treatments soon after our wedding. Yet, we were not prepared for the physical and emotional devastation of the first failed round of IVF. It took months to process the heartbreak and regain some sense of “control” over my body. 

When we decided to try again I knew I needed a lifeline to keep me going if things didn’t work out. So I signed up for my first Olympic Weightlifting meet. I could always drop out if the treatments were a success.

That August, shortly before my 43 birthday and the end of the line for my plans for parenthood, I competed in my first Olympic Weightlifting meet. Weightlifting and strength training didn’t remove my grief or fill the space I had reserved my whole life for parenthood. But it did help me recover from the physical stress of fertility treatment and it did soothe the ache of loss enough to push me forward.

And it turned out that I was really good at the sport of Weightlifting. Since that first therapeutic competition, I have gone on to a successful Masters Weightlifting career. In 2016, I took bronze in my first international competition and won national level medals in 2016, 2021, and 2022. In 2022 I was chosen as part of team USA in worldwide competition; At 50-years old with a bum hip and back, I took home a bronze medal.

Another example of how my physical strength saved me?

In the summer of 2021, while fooling around with some light training my back spasmed. It was not an ideal situation but I wasn’t worried. Sometimes these things happen. No biggie. Except it WAS a biggie. Sort of…

Three months and two MRIs later I was diagnosed with a severely herniated disc and major degeneration in my already-been-operated-on right hip.  My doctor sent me the scans and the lab report. In one second I went from thinking this was a minor deal and I would be fine to feeling like I was going to barf and pass out. 

Thankfully, my amazing doctor, Amy West Md, got on the phone with me right away and said, “If you weren’t so strong this would be debilitating. Your strength has saved you!  And don’t blame yourself. This injury is probably an artifact of something that started a long time ago.”   

It took some time for the shock of the diagnosis to wear off. But eventually I realized that this was just a thing. A thing was going on in my body and I was strong enough to manage it and to keep moving forward.  And that’s exactly what I did. I rehabbed and trained and won a National Championship 7-months later. 

All these physical feats may seem amazing or unachievable by anyone who is athletically average. But here’s the secret. I AM ATHLETICALLY average.  Kind of strong. VERY bendy. And really slow on the running track.  

But I have had a few advantages in my life that made my movement journey possible.  

• First, I was given permission from very early on to explore the movement in any way I wanted. 

• Second, I was given exceptional instruction at important junctures along the way. 

• Finally, I sought out answers from professionals who encouraged and supported me and never let me give up.

Those are the essential components of success I would like to give to you.