Year End Reflection - How I chose bravery over giving up.

As the year wraps up, I’ve been reflecting, not just on work or goals, but on how this season of life actually felt to live.

If I had to name a theme for this year, it would be this: learning how to be brave again.

One of the most obvious examples from this past year was starting horseback riding, a sport that I have wanted the opportunity to do since I was a little girl. If you follow along with the farm, you probably know that around this time last year we brought two horses home, Buddy and Ash. And for the sake of being fully honest with you, I spent a good portion of this year thinking I had made a huge mistake.

Me and Ash - We worked with a vet for about 6 months on Ash, and without significant investment in medical diagnoses, we were unable to heal her. She was in a lot of pain and somehow, despite pharmaceutical treatment, she seemed to get worse. We thought about letting her live life on pasture with the cattle, but even at that she was still in pain.

I had sold myself on this picture-perfect vision: taking lessons on our own horses, trail riding with the kids, creating this beautiful recreational piece of life on the farm. None of that happened.

Buddy had a serious accident last spring, slicing his leg open down to the bone, and we spent more than six months rehabbing that wound. And when it finally came time to ride him, we realized he wasn’t exactly a beginner-friendly horse. Ash turned out to be severely lame, and this fall I made the heartbreaking decision to humanely euthanize her. 

 One setback after another, I started questioning everything. Should I sell Buddy? Take a pause? Walk away from horses entirely for now?

But my heart kept saying “don't give up”.

Buddy deserved his soft landing with us. Despite my frustrations, I knew I wanted to be a better rider, both for him, and for myself. And that meant stepping up and finding a new way to learn.

 Up until that point, I had taken a handful of lessons on Buddy, but I had plateaued and needed better western skills to ride him beyond our round pen. I didn’t have the confidence I needed, and I wasn’t showing up the way I knew I could. So this fall, I finally committed to weekly western riding lessons at a barn in Winchester.

Buddy is a 23 year old quarter horse - used out west on the ranches before he was sold and made it to the east coast. He has a condition called uveitis which is an inflammation in the eye, leading to cataracts and potentially blindness. Due to his vision, he can tend to be spooky and unsure at times. He is very sensitive and requires a confident rider. He is a good boy!

And let me be honest — it has been humbling, uncomfortable, and at times, a little scary.

I’m a beginner. I don’t know all the cues. I don’t always feel coordinated or in control. I mean, you're on the back of a 1,000 lb animal that could toss you off in a blink of an eye. Being on a horse cantering in a tight circle feels like being inside a washing machine (and not in a graceful way).

A few weeks ago, I sent a voice memo to one of my best friends and said, “I just want to be brave.”

And in that moment, I realized something. This isn’t only about riding horses. It’s about remembering that as adults, we get a choice. We can stay comfortable. We can stay where we feel competent and in control. We can give up when we get frustrated. Or we can choose to grow, even when it feels awkward, even when we’re scared, even when we don’t feel ready yet.

That lesson shows up everywhere, including in fitness.

It shows up when you walk into a gym and don’t know exactly what you’re doing. When you decide to lift heavier. When you finally prioritize your health after years of putting yourself last. When you're afraid to fail again. 

 Progress doesn’t come from staying safe; it comes from being willing to give it a shot and from getting honest with yourself about the narratives you carry, and whether they’re truly reasons or just familiar excuses.

And bravery doesn’t mean fearlessness. It means showing up even though you're scared.

Me on Buddy

As we head into 2026, I encourage you to also lean into those uncomfortable moments, those small & big goals and your dreams. And if you feel nervous, just think of me, running in circles on a horse, reminding myself to be brave. 

When it comes to coaching, I’m paying close attention to the conversations we’re having, the questions you’re asking, and the areas where you want more support: whether that’s training, fueling well, or simply staying consistent in a very full season of life. This newsletter will still share grounded, evidence-based insight around fitness and nutrition for real women with real lives.

 If there’s something you’ve been quietly dreaming about, in fitness, in health, or in how you want to feel in your body, I hope this is your reminder that you don’t need to have it all figured out to begin. You just need to be willing to take the first step.

Thank you for being here, for reading, and for trusting me to be part of your world this year. I’m really looking forward to what’s ahead.

PS: If you’re curious about working together more closely in the new year, you can always reach out. No pressure, just a conversation, whenever the time feels right.  And if you have any advice about riding horses - send it my way!