CHAPTER 1
Standing at the Edge
Afraid, I stood at the edge and looked across. I knew I had to go butI knew from step one that it would be difficult. I knew there wouldbe times I would want to quit, I knew I would break down and cry,and I knew I would doubt myself and my ability to keep going.
But I also knew I had to do it. I was standing on the south rimof the Grand Canyon about to hike across it. But for me, it wasn'tjust a hike.
When we lose a loved one, we know we have to go through thegrief, yet we can put it off and hold it down for years like I did. Whenwe are addicted and chained to compulsive behaviors, we know wehave to do the work to get clean, yet we put it off and make excusesand wait for the magical "as soon as" to happen so it will be easier.When we are stuck, we look around and find all the reasons outsideof ourselves that explain why we can't move forward.
But putting off grief doesn't make it any less painful. Putting offrecovery doesn't make getting clean any easier. And staying in ourcomfort zone doesn't make us at all comfortable.
The way to move forward is to step out.
When I did take that first step, just that very first one, I knew Ihad done something important in my life. I just didn't know what.I wouldn't know that until 12 hours into the hike as I was climbingthe steep north rim, when it became evident that I made two bigmistakes. One, I failed to climb at my pace. Two, I didn't eat enough.At that point in the hike, as it was getting dark, my body said "nomore". My mind said "no more". And I stopped.
Well, stopping isn't an option. But I couldn't move forward onmy own.
I was with three fellow hikers. Two went on to the top whileone came back for me and began talking me through each step. Hesaid, "I know how you feel, I've been there." He walked very slowlywith me as I took my ten small steps. Then he waited as I bent over,hands on my knees, trying to catch my breath. He tried to carrymy backpack for me, I wouldn't let him. He tried to get me to eatsomething. And he said, "You are going to finish."
My head was screaming, "Let him go finish his hike at his pace,you are ruining his experience! Tell him, 'don't worry about me'."But I couldn't finish alone, and I wanted to finish this hike. My lifedepended on it.
I already knew what quitting felt like. I already knew whatfailing felt like. I wanted success. I wanted to stand on the other sidewith my arms held high, knowing that I didn't give up.
So I kept walking.
CHAPTER 2
Learning to Walk
I am a personal trainer and fitness coach and I own a studio that offersspecialized fitness training for women over 40. I realize that meanspeople think I have my act together all the time, but I don't. I am inthe process of growing, healing and changing just like everyone else.
Part of my weekly routine was to send out a schedule of classesoffered at the studio, in an email. It was the summer of 2009, andI had been training women for enough years to start hearing thesame things repeated over and over. Things like, "Weight Watchersworks great for me, I've done it seven times!" and "I know whatto do, I just don't do it." I was starting to form some strong beliefsabout what it really takes to change, and many of these beliefs werecontrary to what was being marketed and talked about in the mediaand among women.
That same summer, a major magazine published a cover articlethat frustrated me so much I wrote up a response to it and sent it outwith my weekly schedule. The responses I got from my clients wereincredibly interesting. I wanted to share them with everyone. So, Iwas officially inspired to write again the next week and I includedall of their responses. Thus began our conversation.
And that is what this book is; it is a peek inside the conversationI have had with hundreds of women who are seeking the same thingsthat I am.
You will share in four years that go by, and as we work throughanother Thanksgiving and New Year, winter and summer, themessage gets stronger. I actually get more rooted in the truth fromworking with all these inspiring women and hearing their stories.
You will see a running streak that actually has nothing to dowith running, and eventually switches to a love of walking. Youwill see my good days and bad days. You will see as I dig deeperinto my own junk and share it with everyone, how it touches othersand heals me, too.
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One of the things I hear the most when you allow me to sharein your journey is that you want it to go faster. I understand wantingit NOW. But consider the journey for a moment. Could it be thathealth is not a destination, but a direction? Are we ever really"there"?
Some of you have seen me use the visual of taking small,consistent steps until I have crossed the room. Then, I go back towhere I started and try to get to the other side in one big jump. Itdoesn't work. I can't jump that far.
But I can step. One small step forward. Another small stepforward. Right foot, left foot, right foot, left foot. Monday, Tuesday,Wednesday. September, October, November. And if I am headingin the right direction and taking consistent steps, I will see smallchanges. If I keep heading in the right direction over a long periodof time, I will be able to step back and see major changes.
I don't believe that creating a healthy, fit lifestyle requires onemajor change. It requires many little changes. Imagine you arewriting a book for your very best friend who wants to live a healthierlife. Your book is 100 pages long. On each page, write one smallchange you've made that she can make and stick with. Keep writingsmall changes until you have filled up your book. Now you have theguidance for making a lifestyle change that's all yours.
We tend to look outside of ourselves for the answer. Wouldn'tit be great if we could find that one thing that would help us changefor good? Instead, we have to create our own personal formula thatincorporates our foods, our family, and our lifestyle.
Believe that the answers lie within you. Create your own healthylifestyle and get moving in the right direction. Take your time andenjoy the gifts along the path of your transformation.
* * *
I am an athlete. Can you say it? Do you believe it? Or do youhave certain criteria that must be met to consider yourself a realathlete?
I used to think to be a real runner you had to be a good runner,or a fast runner, or run all the time. Then I started running. I rantrails and hills. I ran on my treadmill. Some of those miles, I walkedbecause my lungs were on fire or my knee was killing me. I sloggedalong slowly. I fought. I...