Last Fall I was feeling defeated, depleted, and running out of dreams. And I was staring down 40. Something had to change. All of my experience in training Marines for combat and helping them drop weight wasn’t working for me anymore. All of my years teaching fitness classes and my time studying with Harvard medical professionals and PhD’s in Nutrition wasn’t helping me stay fit. Could I sleep less, eat less, and work out harder? Should I enroll my five homeschooled children into a school we can’t afford so I can spend even more time in the kitchen cooking? Is there a quick fix somewhere? A magic pill? Maybe this is just what middle-aged motherhood looks and feels like?
These are the thoughts that were beginning to keep me up at night and tempting me to self-medicate with spoonfuls of Nutella and nightcaps of gin while I binge-watched Netflix in bed. I was shoveling food into my face and shoving dreams out of my head because I was beginning to think they were no longer possible. At least not for me.
But then-oh-then! With my last remaining dregs of courage I reached out to a friend who was showing signs of life in her health journey. What was she doing? Why was she talking all the time about how great she feels and how wonderful her sleep is and how big her dreams are now? It was so annoying. But also, it was so intriguing!
The ensuing conversation changed the trajectory of my life. Of my marriage. Of my family. If my friend had told me I would get to a healthy weight in mere months I would’ve laughed. From a size 12 to a size 6? No way! After all, I’m Sicilian and Sicilians are meant to be stocky. Plus, I’ve birthed 5 babies in 7 years so I’m pretty sure that ship has sailed.
If she had told me my husband would get to a healthy weight in mere months I definitely would’ve laughed! He loves food too much. He leads a sedentary life as a data scientist. His service in the Marine Corps and combat experience has left his body broken.
If she had said we’d not only accomplish our health goals but also help others do the same-friends and family who have survived cancer, served our country, lost spouses, lost jobs, lost hope-there’s just no way.
But she didn’t say all of that. I think she knew it, but she also knew I wasn’t ready to hear it. So she simply invited me to get well alongside her, took my hand, handed me a LifeBook, and helped me find ME!
I find it ironic that, exactly 6 months from starting my health journey (after a night of New Years Eve binge-eating since I was sure it would be my last enjoyable meal ever so hurry up and eat & drink all the things already!) I’m now sharing my story of hope and healing. Six months! In six months my husband and I recovered our health, have helped many, many others do the same, have found our happiness & zest for life again, began playing with our kids more, dreaming more, and becoming those annoying people sharing about how good they feel because there’s just no way we can keep from sharing this with everyone we know!
My health coach will forever have my deepest gratitude and highest praise. One of the interesting parts of my health journey has been the reappearance of muscle definition. It had always been there, I suppose; it had just been buried and burdened. That’s what a good coach does-supports us as we dig our way out of our ‘health hole’ and recover the strong person who has been there-waiting…hoping…all along.
If you feel stuck, burdened, buried-we know that feeling and we’d be honored to help you recover YOU!