Fitness: Your Unique Path

The "N of 1" Philosophy: We Are Not Averages

If you are like me, you spend time—I won't admit to how much, but time—scrolling, interacting, and taking in information on social media. For some, this is where they get their news, fitness advice, and stock preparedness information. We are drowning in information but starving for wisdom. In a world of 30-second fitness reels and “mandatory” morning routines, we’ve lost sight of the most important variable in the health equation: You.

The fitness industry is built on "The Average." When you read a study stating that a specific training intervention increased power output by 12%, it’s crucial to remember that "12%" is a mathematical midpoint. In that same study, there were likely "high-responders" who saw a 20% jump and "low-responders" who saw little to no improvement—or perhaps even regressed.

When we take a "proven" plan off a shelf and try to force our lives into its rigid boxes, we are assuming we are the average. But your history, your bone structure, and your specific physiological makeup make you an "N of 1." True progress doesn't come from finding the "best" plan; it comes from finding the plan that your specific body responds to right now.

Physiology of the 40+ Female: The Rules Have Changed

For many of us, the strategies that felt like 'magic' in our 20s and 30s—relentless high-volume weeks, the 'no days off' mantra, or the pressure to drop weight to hit a specific 'racing weight'—start to backfire as we cross the threshold into our 40s and 50s. This isn't a failure of will; it’s a shift in chemistry.

As we navigate the shifts in estrogen and progesterone, our sensitivity to cortisol (the stress hormone) increases. What the "influencer" on your feed might call a "fat-burning workout" might actually be a signal to your 45-year-old nervous system to enter survival mode, clinging to every ounce of energy and stalling your recovery. General fitness advice rarely accounts for the fact that for the female athlete in midlife, "more" is often just "more stress," not "more fitness." We have to stop looking at what worked for us ten years ago and start looking at what supports our physiology today.

The Metric Trap: Data vs. Intuition

We live in an era of unprecedented access to data. We have rings that track our sleep, watches that calculate our Training Stress Score (TSS), and apps that tell us our Heart Rate Variability (HRV) is "low." These are incredible tools, but they have a dark side: they can disconnect us from our own bodies.

In my coaching practice, I advocate for Bio-Feedback Response. Data should be a consultant, not the CEO. If the metrics say "Go" but the body says "No," the body wins every time. This doesn't mean you never push yourself. It means you learn to check your "internal dashboard" during your warm-up. If the power isn't there and your heart rate is skyrocketing during a Zone 2 effort, that's the data that matters more than any training calendar. Learning to distinguish between "I’m just a little unmotivated" and "My systemic recovery is tanked" is the most valuable skill an endurance athlete can develop. It’s the difference between a successful season and a season-ending injury.

Stability, Mobility, and the Myth of "Perfect" Form

As a rehab therapist and mobility specialist, I often see clients who are terrified to move because they’ve been told their "form" isn't textbook. They’ve been told there is one "right" way to squat or one "efficient" way to strike the ground while running.

The reality is that your anatomy is your destiny to some degree. The depth of your hip sockets, the length of your femurs, and the history of every ankle sprain or old surgery you’ve ever had dictate how your body moves most safely. When we force a square peg into a round hole—like demanding a deep squat from someone with shallow hip sockets—we aren’t building fitness; we’re building a compensation pattern that eventually ends up on my rehab table.

There is no "perfect" form that applies to everyone. There is only functional form—the movement pattern that allows you to produce power, move with ease, and remain pain-free. When we stop trying to look like a stock photo of an athlete and start moving in a way that respects our unique levers and joints, we unlock a level of performance that "perfect" form could never provide.

The Systemic Load: Stress is Stress

One of the biggest misconceptions in endurance sports is that our training exists in a vacuum. We look at our training calendar and see "60-minute tempo run," but our bodies see "Systemic Load."

The body does not have a separate 'bucket' for training stress, work stress, family stress, and lack of sleep. It’s all one bucket. If your work life is at a 9/10 stress level, a 9/10 intensity workout doesn't make you 'tougher'—it overflows the bucket. This leaves you with zero remaining capacity to handle the physical demands of your training, especially the high-intensity sessions that require your nervous system to be at its best.

The "right" way to train is the way that fits into the context of your actual life. Sometimes, the most "athletic" thing you can do for your long-term health is to trade a high-intensity session for a gentle mobility flow or an extra hour of sleep. True health isn't about hitting every green box on a training app; it’s about maintaining the capacity to show up for your life with energy and resilience.

Reclaiming Your Authority

There is no one right way to get to the finish line first, and there is certainly no one right way to be "healthy." The "truth" is only true if it works for the person staring back at you in the mirror.

As you navigate the sea of information out there, I encourage you to be a skeptic. Test things. Listen to your bio-feedback. Respect your stage of life. Most importantly, remember that you are the ultimate authority on your own body.

Is Your Plan Working With or Against You?

It’s easy to download a training plan; it’s much harder to know when to pivot. If you’re tired of trying to fit your life into a rigid box that wasn’t built for your 40+ physiology, your injury history, or your current stress levels, let’s talk.

Does your current plan pass the "Bucket Test"?

• Are you seeing progress, or just accumulating fatigue?

• Is your mobility supporting your sport or creating "workarounds"?

• Are you training for the athlete you were ten years ago, or the powerhouse you are today?

You don’t have to guess. Whether you need a one-time consultation to audit your current strategy or ongoing coaching to help you reach that next finish line, I’m here to help you become the expert on your own "N of 1."

Making Peace with the Season You’re In

As I sat down to write this blog, it became clear that I’ve really been going through it this past year. That realization pulled me back to my story — the story of a female athlete and coach navigating change, setbacks, and growth.

Recently, my business coach reminded me how powerful it can be to revisit old writing. So I reread past blogs and noticed something interesting: the last time I wrote about my story was also in February. February of last year.

There’s something about late winter that invites reflection. It’s the in-between season. Not the excitement of January. Not the bloom of spring. Just stillness. A space to look at how things went, how we hoped they would go, and how we understand them now.

This year, that reflection hasn’t been easy.

The past year brought multiple injuries — mostly back-related — along with a frozen shoulder that showed up uninvited. From a fitness standpoint, it felt like I wasn’t moving forward at all. In many ways, it felt like I had taken steps backward.

Before my first back injury, I had numbers in my head:
A 200-pound deadlift.
A 185-pound back squat.
A 125-pound clean & jerk.
Another podium finish at Duathlon Nationals.

I could see it. I could feel it.

And then… none of it happened.

Not one goal.

Was I mad? Absolutely.
Did I feel betrayed by my body? Yes.
Am I still working on letting that go? Every day.

What no one prepares you for is the quiet grief when your body doesn’t respond the way it used to. The grief of slower recovery. Of heavier weights. Of realizing you can’t outwork everything anymore.

And for women, this isn’t just aging — it’s physiology.

Perimenopause can feel like your body rewrote the rulebook without telling you. Hormones shift. Recovery changes. Sleep changes. Stress tolerance changes. And instead of acknowledging that, most of us just push harder. We assume we’re not disciplined enough.

I did.

I trained through pain. I compared myself to a version of me that no longer exists. I felt like I was falling behind — behind my goals, behind my expectations, behind who I thought I should be by now.

But here’s the part that makes this story bigger than injury.

When I couldn’t train the way I wanted to, I poured myself into my business and my relationships. I built. I connected. I grew. In many ways, I reached a level professionally that I’ve been chasing for nearly ten years.

So no — I wasn’t moving backward.

I was just growing in a different direction.

This winter forced me to slow down. And in that stillness, I had to face something uncomfortable: I wasn’t actually doing what I needed to recover. I was operating from pride. From ego. From “I’ve been doing this long enough to figure it out.”

I assumed I knew what was wrong instead of asking, “What’s happening in this season of my body?”

So I finally did. I got evaluated for what’s real right now — not what was true twenty years ago.

Letting go of my old expectations — and the expectations I thought others had of me — felt like peeling off layers of pressure I didn’t even realize I was carrying.

I’m not magically healed. I’m still working through back issues. But now I’m addressing what’s actually in front of me instead of fighting ghosts.

And maybe that’s the lesson.

To the women navigating perimenopause, slower recovery, frustration, or unexpected setbacks: you are not broken. You are not done. You are in transition.

Sometimes the way forward isn’t more discipline.

Sometimes it’s support.
Sometimes it’s reflection.
Sometimes it’s admitting you don’t have it all figured out.

Sometimes strength is allowing yourself to begin again — from exactly where you are.

If you’re in a season where your body feels unfamiliar, where recovery looks different, or where you’re questioning what’s next — you don’t have to navigate it alone. This is the work I care deeply about.

Maybe that’s why February keeps calling me back to my story. It’s the quiet season that asks for honesty. Two years in a row, this month has asked me to pause, to look clearly at where I am, and to release who I thought I was supposed to be.

Maybe February isn’t about evaluating progress at all.

Maybe it’s about making peace with the season you’re in — and trusting that growth is still happening, even when it looks different than you planned.

 

Winter Base Building: Endurance + Strength It’s What I’m Actually Doing Right Now

January and February training isn’t glamorous. There are no races on the calendar, no flashy workouts to post, and honestly—some days it’s just cold, dark, wet, and your bed is calling louder than the urge to get your workout in. But year after year, this is the phase that makes the biggest difference in how strong, fast, and durable I feel later on.

Winter base training is where I slow things down on purpose. Not because I’m “taking it easy,” but because I know this work matters.

Why Base Training Matters, Even When It Feels Boring

Base training is about building the engine and the structure that holds it together. For me, that means prioritizing aerobic work, lifting consistently (and lifting heavy), and keeping intensity in check—even when my brain wants to go harder.

When I’ve skipped or rushed this phase in the past, I’ve paid for it later with nagging injuries, burnout, or fitness that peaked too early. When I fully commit to base work, everything else feels easier. My aerobic pace improves, my strength feels more stable for longer, and I can handle higher training loads when it actually counts.

Right now, my weeks are simple: a few steady endurance sessions, 3–4 strength days, and at least one day where I truly back off. Simple doesn’t mean easy—it means intentional.

Strength Training: Less Ego, More Payoff

Winter is my favorite time to lift because I’m not trying to “maintain” strength around hard workouts—I’m actually building.

When I’m really pushing the scale, I stick to a few key lifts: squats, deadlifts, clean & jerks, snatches, thrusters, pull-ups, bench press, and Turkish get-ups. These are my big-ticket items. I always complement them with accessory movements where I’m not lifting nearly as heavy—but I’m still working hard. These movements aren’t fancy, but they’re functional and fierce—and I feel fierce after doing them.

What’s changed over the years is how I load them.

Instead of defaulting to 3 sets of 10 or 2 sets of 15, I now spend most of my time lifting heavy and sub-max. I live in that 6–8 rep range with clean reps and good control, and then about once every four weeks I’ll go for a true max lifting day. I want to finish sessions feeling strong—not wrecked.

One of the biggest lessons I’ve learned is that strength training works best when it supports endurance, not when it steals from it.

The biggest mistake I see (and have made myself) is doing too much “strength endurance” lifting and not enough true heavy lifting early in the season. Winter is the time to build a solid strength base that will carry you through the year—and to work on your limiters so you don’t end up on the injured reserve all season.

Aerobic Endurance: Yes, Even Indoors

If you train through winter, you’ve probably had the “Do I really need to do this easy session?” debate with yourself. I still have it.

Most of my endurance work right now lives in Zone 2—easy enough that I can breathe through my nose or hold a conversation. And yes, a lot of it happens indoors. Bikes, treadmills, walking, and stair climbing all count.

Every time I commit to this work, the same thing happens: my pace improves without forcing it, my recovery gets better, and harder sessions later don’t feel nearly as overwhelming. It’s not exciting in the moment—but it shows up later in a big way.

Mobility: The Unsexy Glue That Holds It Together

I’ll be honest—I don’t do long mobility sessions. What does work for me is consistency.

I spend 5–10 minutes every day working on something. Usually, it happens right when I’m about to fall into a social media scroll loop. Instead, I drop the phone and focus on one of my limiters. I do it with intention and actually pay attention to how it feels.

This is not fun—I’m not going to lie. It’s hard work, sometimes just as mentally challenging as a max lifting day. But when I stay consistent, the gains stack up fast.

I prioritize hips, shoulders, upper and lower back, and ankles. When those areas feel good, everything else feels better. On the days I skip this, I notice it immediately in my lifting and running mechanics.

Mobility isn’t extra—it’s what allows me to train consistently without feeling beat up.

What a Real Winter Training Week Looks Like

Right now, my week isn’t perfect—and that’s kind of the point.

I’m hitting 3–4 strength sessions, 3–4 endurance sessions, and sprinkling in technique work during each workout. Some weeks are better than others. The win is consistency, not perfection.

Are You Training Too Hard Right Now?

If you’re constantly tired, irritable, or feel like every session is a grind, that’s a sign—not a badge of honor.

I’ve learned that when winter training starts to feel heavy, the answer usually isn’t more effort—it’s less intensity. Backing off now doesn’t make you weaker; it sets you up to train harder later.

And sometimes, it’s not about backing off—it’s about adding variety. Here in California, winters aren’t always cold or wet, so I’ll mix in mountain or gravel bike rides when the thought of another 3–4 hour road ride makes me want to sleep in instead of jumping out of bed excited.

Slow, enjoyable work builds strong athletes. I remind myself of that often.

Winter Nutrition: Don’t Underfuel the Quiet Season

One thing I have to consciously manage in winter is fueling. When it’s cold and I’m training indoors, hunger cues aren’t always obvious—but recovery still matters.

I focus on consistent meals, plenty of protein to support strength work, and staying hydrated even when I don’t feel thirsty. When I do this well, my energy, recovery, and mood are noticeably better.

Measuring Progress Without Chasing Numbers

During base season, I don’t obsess over the scale or PRs. I pay attention to how training feels.

Is my heart rate lower at the same pace? Am I lifting with better control? Am I recovering faster between sessions? Those are the wins that matter right now.

Winter training isn’t about proving anything. It’s about showing up, stacking small wins, and trusting that the work you’re doing—quietly and consistently—will pay off when it matters most.

And from experience: it always does.