There are moments in life when you suddenly see things differently. One of those moments changed the way I think about health—and ultimately, the way I wanted to help other women.

A routine breast exam revealed suspicious areas in both of my breasts.
Like many of us, I had known women affected by breast cancer, so when my imaging came back abnormal, I was scared. It prompted me to take a deeper look at my own health and the choices I was making.

I began paying much more attention to nutrition, exercise, and other healthy habits. Along the way, I noticed changes I hadn’t expected: some of the symptoms I’d accepted as part of being a woman (hello, PMS) became much less bothersome (or even nonexistent), and I felt stronger and more capable in my athletic pursuits.

A few years later, as my body approached menopause, I was braced for the horrors I’d read about (eek!). It turned out to be a relatively manageable transition for me. I can’t say exactly how much of that was due to my lifestyle changes, but I do know that taking care of myself had become a priority—and I felt good about the way I’d prepared for this new stage of life.

Then came empty nesting. I realized that my happiness was my responsibility—not my sons’ or my husband’s. After 30+ years of marriage, my husband and I have continued to grow together while also pursuing our own interests. For me, that included four powerlifting meets in one year in my late 50s.

Grief has come, too, as I’ve lost people I love. Those experiences have reminded me to be grateful for the now—to notice God’s presence in ordinary, daily life, and to be gentle with myself along the way.

And now, I’m a certified Grandma.

I love this role, and I want to stay healthy enough to play with my grandchildren. I want to keep having outdoor adventures with my husband. I want to travel. There are athletic challenges I still want to train for.

Now at 60+, my life isn’t shrinking. It’s continuing to grow.

And that’s what I’ve come to understand:

Health gives us options, freedom, capability, and participation in life.

This is Upward Motion.

I wish I could wave a magic wand and we’d all be healthy.

Actually, no, I don’t.

Because we’d miss the feeling of accomplishment, confidence, and even a little bit of badarse-ery that comes from working for something that matters to us.

No magic fixes. I believe in a clear process, practical habits, consistent practice, and learning what works for your body.

And dark chocolate. I believe in dark chocolate.